


Demon's Salvation or Father's Damnation?

by ChaosComix



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bloodplay, Demon!Dean, It's not non-con but it's def dub-con, M/M, Priest!Cas, Smut, Violence, minor characters deaths, possible major character death but nothing permanent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-04 08:39:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaosComix/pseuds/ChaosComix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Father Castiel stumbles across a young man being attacked in a dark alley and immediately jumps to his aid. He discovers too late that the attackers are, in fact, hunters and the man is a demon. Now the demon won’t rest or namely let Castiel rest, until he finds his angel. </p><p>Demon!Dean x Priest!Castiel</p><p>Inspired by gif sets on Tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Galatians 6:2

**Author's Note:**

> Given the nature of this piece, violence and other possible triggering scenarios will be present. Please read at your own discretion. If you are concerned about something in particular feel free to ask about it and I can clarify if it is as issue that will come up.

The cold, brisk winter air sweeps over Father Castiel’s face, and the man pulls the collar of his beige over coat up with his free hand. The other is currently preoccupied with a few essential groceries from the grocery slash gas station store several blocks down the road from the church. Despite the pleas from his brothers and sisters of the church to go in the morning rather than late at night, Castiel told them he would be careful and would be back quickly.

Then, he was so determined to go that he didn’t bother to check the time and mentally blocked out the dangers of their neighborhood. There have been far too many shootings and muggings in the past year, let alone the past _week_ that should have immediately deterred the youngest father from leaving the protection of the church walls. Castiel felt slightly safer once inside the store, but it wasn’t enough to calm him nerves completely. The odd stares he received from others probably didn’t help.

Now thinking over things more clearly, coming out tonight isn’t one of his brightest ideas. He’s back on the road, by himself, at well past midnight, in one of the roughest neighborhoods in the city. Castiel can’t help but wonder what drove him to such an insane act that is completely unlike him.

He’s pulled from his thoughts when he passes an alleyway and hears what is undeniably someone being beaten. Castiel knows the safest choice is to keep walking, or at least go to the closest phone and call the police, but neither is the one he decides to do. Everything is clear to him now. His strange behavior was God guiding him to someone in need, and Castiel can’t walk away. The young father is suddenly filled with a strong purpose now, and any unease and nervousness is gone.

_Bear another one’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ._

Standing up tall, Castiel confidently strides down the alley. His actions do not go unnoticed, however. Castiel can see one of the two attackers turn around to face him, but it does nothing to slow the father down.

“What the hell?” The other attacker is distracted by his accomplice’s sudden comment, and looks over to see Castiel approaching them.

Both attackers appear to be middle aged men wearing worn jeans, with flannel overshirts and heavy work boots. If Castiel was the sort of person to judge by appearances, he would more likely place these men as farmers rather than common muggers.

Once at a close enough distance, the Father can actually make out one of the men. “Mr. Creaser?” It’s one of the churches parishioners. “What is going on here?”

Martin Creaser stands up and the father can see dark stains on the man’s shirt, and as much as Castiel doesn’t want to admit it, it looks a lot like blood. “Father, you shouldn’t be here.”

Castiel can’t believe his eyes or ears, and he can’t help but fume at the behavior transpiring before him. He narrows his eyes at Martin, “No. You should not be here. You should not be doing,” Then the father gestures to behind his parishioner and does nothing to disguise his disgust, “ _this_.”

For the first time, Castiel can see the victim, though he can’t make out much from here and the state of the man’s face. There’s blood everywhere, and it looks like the others have spent some time inflicting damage to the poor man. Father Castiel’s eyes go wide at the sight, and he drops his groceries as he speeds to the victim’s side.

Martin rushes forward and holds Castiel back, “What are you doing, Martin? This man needs medical attention!”

“No, Father.” Martin shakes his head and continues holding Castiel back, “This _demon_ needs to be sent back to the depths of hell from where it came.”

Castiel stares at Martin dumbstruck, but quickly hides it and looks at Martin as calmly as he can, “Martin. I think you and your friend may also need some medical help.” Martin shakes his head like the father isn’t quite understanding something, but Castiel continues, “I know someone who may be able to help you. He helped Sister Anna-”

The father is cut off by a horrible laugh he can only describe as being from the devil himself and a choking sound.

“ _I’m afraid he’s going to need more than a shrink when I get through with him, angel_.”

Martin and Castiel turn to see the victim holding the other attacker down on his knees by his throat with a smile so wicked that it has Father Castiel instinctively reaching for his rosary. The victim, though that’s hardly an accurate description at this point, is even taller than Castiel and his face no longer has the same swelling or bruises it did mere moments before. Blood is still covering his face and the entire front of his shirt, but he looks as if the mess doesn’t bother him in the least. Not only that, but his outfit doesn’t differ much from the other two. The only difference is the leather jacket he wears over the flannel overshirt. He’s also much younger than Martin and his friend. Castiel’s not sure if it’s a trick of the light, and this is the part that nearly sends shivers down his spine, but he is fairly certain that the man’s eyes are a solid, pitch black. There’s not even a trace of light being reflected in them.

There’s a loud crunch and there’s no mistaking what happened when the man kneeling crumples to the ground. “Travis!” Martin is furious, but he continues holding Castiel back. Castiel can sense that Martin wants to run to his friend’s side, however useless it would be at this point, but he just stands stiffly in front of Castiel.

The demon shrugs and kicks Travis’ lifeless body to the side, “What? He started it.” He blinks and the dark, empty voids suddenly look human and are staring intently at Castiel, “Well, look at this lost little lamb.”

Martin starts pushing Castiel away towards the entrance, “Get back to the church, and don’t look back.”

Castiel is too entranced though, he can’t seem to pull his eyes away from the demon slowly walking towards them. There’s something about the demon’s eyes that draws the father in. He knows he should look away, he needs to _run_ , but his legs won’t move.

That wicked grin is back, and this time Castiel knows it’s being directed at him. “I really should thank you. If you hadn’t shown up, these two sons of bitches might have actually been a problem.” The demon takes his thumb and wipes a fair amount of the blood covering his chin, “which would be really embarrassing considering the only reason they got the one up on me because they caught me with my pants down.” He finally breaks eye contact with the father and pauses his approach as he starts looking around, “Speaking of which… where did that dirty whore go?” He blinks again, his eyes return to that solid, inky and empty pools and Castiel is certain the demon is staring at him again. “Oh, well. I’m sure I can find someone else to pass the time with.”

The father is still being pushed away by Martin’s persistence. “I said get out of here, you stupid bastard!”

Martin’s shouting has somehow broken Castiel from his trance, and the father looks over at his parishioner and then back at the demon. “I can’t leave you here alone with this _monster_.”

The demon has a mock look of hurt at Castiel’s comment, but the grin that follows shows Castiel just how truly bothered the demon is.

“Besides, I feel responsible for what has happened to your friend.” Castiel frowns wondering how everything turned out this way.

“First, he wasn’t a friend. We both know the risks of the job. Second, you wanna help? You get your holy ass back to the church and warn the others. The only chance we had against this asshole was to catch him off guard.” Castiel opens his mouth to interrupt, but Martin cuts him off, “And before you start blaming yourself again, you’re no hunter and you just did what any normal and decent human being would have done. Not your fault that he turned out to be a damn demon being dealt with by a couple of hunters.”

Castiel would normally make some sort of comment on all the vulgar words being said by his current company, but given the circumstances he can’t say he’s surprised. His hand feels wet, and when he looks down he sees that he did manage to fish out his rosary and he’s been clutching it so hard that it’s cutting well into his skin. Blood drips down onto the cracked concrete, and Castiel quickly wraps the beaded necklace into his uninjured hand and pockets it. He gives one last look to Martin, who glances over at him and nods at the father, and Castiel turns and starts running.

The demon’s head perks up and his smile fades. He starts walking towards the entrance of the alleyway to pursue the father, but is cut off by Martin. The demon’s eyes narrow at the hunter, “You really think you’re going to stop me?”

“No, but I’m sure as hell gonna try.”

_______________

 

Castiel’s only been running for a few minutes, but his chest is tight and his mind is swimming. He needs to get help quickly or Martin Creaser may die, if he isn’t already.

 

_______________

 

“Dean…” Martin is making one last attempt to get through, but it’s hard with a hand wrapped firmly around his throat. “For the love of God, fight it.”

The demon’s, _Dean’s_ , lip twitches in disgust, “God?” He shouts the name and crushes Martin’s neck with a loud crack, and tosses him to the side to join his fellow hunter. “You know me better than that, Martin. I gave up on that long before this.”

Dean stares at the motionless bodies a moment before heading back to the entrance to the alley. As he’s walking he catches sight of an out of place patch of wet blood and then he remembers the father clutching his precious rosary tightly in his left hand. He pokes his index and middle finger in the thick, red liquid and brings it up to his nose. It’s definitely not Martin’s or Travis.’ Dean’s vicious smile is back full force and he brings his fingers down to his lips, licking the coppery fluid from his fingers. “I’ve got your scent now little lamb. You can’t hide from me now.”

He’s got a taste now, and Dean wants _more_.


	2. Mark 9:29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence. Minor character deaths.

_Dean stares at the motionless bodies a moment before heading back to the entrance to the alley. As he’s walking he catches sight of an out of place patch of wet blood and then he remembers the father clutching his precious rosary tightly in his left hand. He pokes his index and middle finger in the thick, red liquid and brings it up to his nose. It’s definitely not Martin’s or Travis.’ Dean’s vicious smile is back full force and he brings his fingers down to his lips, licking the coppery fluid from his fingers. “I’ve got your scent now little lamb. You can’t hide from me now.”_

_He’s got a taste now, and Dean wants more._

**_______________**

 

Castiel has never run so hard in his life. The streets are dead with the exception of a few prostitutes on corners and gang members hanging out on stoops. He ignores the cat calls and yelling, and focuses more on running. Every once in a while he looks over his shoulder to see if the monster is following him. There’s no sight of the demon, but the father keeps going and tries to avoid slowing down.

He has a close call when he rushes across a street and nearly gets hit by a car to which he apologizes to the driver profusely while backing away and then turning to continue running.

His cheeks become flushed from both exertion and the cold nipping at his skin, and his eyes are dry and itchy from the wind blowing in his face. He turns a corner too fast, not noticing the ice spread over the one patch of concrete of the sidewalk that isn’t riddled with holes and cracks, and slips forward. Castiel braces his fall with his hands at the last minute, but it’s not enough to stop his momentum. Both hands are scratched up roughly where he braced himself, and his head bumps hard against the concrete.

The father realizes he has gotten up to quickly when the world starts spinning around him, and when he presses a hand to where his head collided with the ground it stings and burns hot. Pulling his hand back he sees it covered in blood. He can’t tell if the blood is from his hands or his forehead.

After much stumbling on the ice and with the swimming in head, Castiel finally manages to get to his feet. There’s a few men circling near him with concerned expressions, and Castiel is fairly sure he recognizes the boys are from one of the local gangs.

“Man, you okay?” One of the men with a ball cap worn backwards and a large red coat looks like he wants to help hold Castiel up, but his hands hover around him as if unsure if he should. “You took a nasty spill, padre, and you bonked your head pretty hard. Maybe you should take it easy for a minute, yeah?”

Castiel breathes a sigh of relief at the caring words, and he thanks God silently for the assistance. “Thank you. I appreciate your concern, but-”

“But nothin,’ man. You were out like a fuckin’ light. Probably have a concussion or some shit.” The gang member is trying to direct Castiel over to the side to rest on a bench, and the others crowd in an attempt to assist the one in the ball cap.

The father’s eyes widen, “What? How… how long was I out for?”

The man in the ball cap turns to look at his friends who shrug and he turns back to Castiel and does the same, “I dunno. A couple of minutes at least.” Castiel starts looking frantically around, and immediately regrets the quick movement when everything starts spinning again, “You don’t look so good, we’re gonna call you an ambulance.” There’s more being said, but Castiel has tuned everything out. He’s already lost his head start, and if the demon got past Martin and chose to follow him, he could show up any minute.

Martin. Castiel was going for help, and with a literal slip up, he failed him.

The young Father looks down the street and sees the church at the end two blocks down. He’s almost there. The gang members try to convince him to sit down and his head is pounding, but Castiel keeps pressing forward. He _has_ to get there. He owes that much to Martin and Travis.

He takes one step and his blood goes cold.

_“There you are, angel.”_

 

_______________

 

Now that Martin was dealt with, Dean could go after the fleeing father. His brow furrowed when he noticed how faint the scent was already. The father can certainly run fast.

Not wasting any more time, Dean immediately sets off after his angel. He knows the general vicinity of the church, but every step he feels that the father is getting further and further away. Part of him worries that he might be heading in the wrong direction, and when he spots a couple of prosititutes on a corner, he figures he might as well ask for some help, “Did you see a father run by here? Blue eyes, wearing a tan trench coat,” Dean holds up one of his hand to measure the father’s approximate height, “About yea high?” Got a bad case of bed head?”

One of the women in tall, red heels and way too much makeup for the demon's liking eyes Dean and approaches him, “I might’ve seen who you’re talkin’ about. Didn’t get a good look though. He was running like his ass was on fire from hell itself.”

Dean smiles at the analogy.

The woman gives Dean her most seductive smile, “Forget about him though, why don’t we go somewhere instead?”

Dean returns the smile, “Sorry. Not tonight sweetheart. Gotta help put out that fire before he hurts himself.”

The prostitute scoffs and looks annoyed at being blown off, “Well, aren’t you a good boy?”

Dean turns away from the woman and when he blinks his eyes change to solid black, “Oh, darlin’. You have _no_ idea.”

The prostitute rolls her eyes, “Yeah, well he went that way,” and she points off towards the direction Castiel ran down a minute earlier.

The demon is off running again and, after another three or four blocks, he grins when he feels like he’s finally catching up. The trail was starting to run cold, and Dean would have taken the time to be amazed at how fast the father was, but was more annoyed at the thought of losing his angel.

Freshly spilt blood hit his senses hard, and Dean can immediately pinpoint its location. Sure enough, one block down from him, he can see the father and a small group of thugs surrounding him. Dean growls when he sees the father pushing a man wearing a ball cap away and looking around frantically. Was he being mugged? There’s no way in hell Dean’s going to let some common crooks steal his prey from him.

Stalking closer with a determination that should worry him, he slows down when he catches the conversation. Dean can’t believe his luck. His lost, little lamb has fallen and given Dean plenty of time to catch up to him. Not only that, but these punks are actually looking out after him. How _sweet_.

“There you are, angel.” Dean revels in the shudder that washes over the father and the fear that washes over the man’s face.

The gang members turn to face Dean and the injured man takes that as the perfect opportunity to make his escape but not before calling out to them, “Run!”

Dean cocks his head just slightly and in a playful manner, “Where are you going?”

“Stay away from me!” The father is backing away like a scared animal and Dean loves every second of it.

“No. I don’t think so, angel. I think I’m gonna stay extremely close to you.” Dean’s smile is vicious and he’s got him now that the father can barely stand on his own.

Aside from the fact there’s five gang members between them and glaring at Dean even as they eye his bloodsoasked shirt and covered face, “Is this asshole givin’ you trouble, padre?”

The father continues backing away, and glances from Dean to the church and then at the men who have been nothing but help since his fall. “Run. _Please_.” The father sounds desperate, and for good reason.

Dean’s not surprised when everyone in the gang starts laughing at the father’s words. The demon crowds close into the personal space of who he assumes is the leader of the group and stares down at him not bothering to disguise his eyes.

He just needs a reason. Just one.

The leader doesn’t seem fazed by Dean’s closeness, although he raises an eyebrow at the blood covering his clothes, but Dean can feel the unease when the man sees Dean’s eyes up close, “Dude, what is up with your eyes?”

Dean can see the father struggling with either running to safety, or staying to help the others. In the end his desire to help wins out, “He’s a demon!”

“Oh, yeah?” The leader scoffs at Dean who still hasn’t backed away. “Well, we’ll see about that.” The man takes a step back and lifts his coat to reveal a gun hidden in the waist line of his pants. He pulls the gun out quickly and fires a well-placed shot into Dean’s chest.

The demon stumbles backwards a bit and even throws his arms out a bit to steady himself. Dean looks down at the bullet hole and places a hand against the wound and presses a finger against the hole. A dark and angry look shadows over Dean’s face when he looks back up at the man who shot him. He reaches inside the gunshot wound and rips out the bullet and pulls it far back enough to examine it.

The leader, whose gun has slowly lowered in shock from the sight of Dean tearing the bullet out without so much as a flinch other than the back step he took from the force of the shot, jerks his gun back up and points it at Dean’s face. The demon had been expecting it, however, and pries it out of his attacker’s hand. After tossing the gun to the side, Dean grabs the gang member by the front of his coat in one hand and presses the bullet against the man’s cheek.

Fear runs all through the man’s body, “What the hell are you?”

“Weren’t you listening?” Dean starts pushing the bit of metal against the terrified man’s eyelid, “I’m a fucking _demon_.” At the last word, Dean jams the bullet harshly through the man’s eye causing the man to scream loudly. The others let out horrified gasps and small screams as well, and when the screaming stops they can hear the nauseating squishing sounds as Dean completely jams his thumb into the now still man. When Dean drops the body with a loud thud and the rustle from the large coat, the other gang members shake the shock and reach for their own weapons.

Looking back up, Dean notices that his sweet, little angel has finally decided to cut his losses and try to make a run for it again. The father is doing far better than Dean gave him credit for and is already half way to the church.

He’s going to escape.

Dean’s furious. He had the perfect opportunity, and these assholes are stalling him. Now his prey is going to successfully get away, unless…

Guns shots ring out loudly and Dean jostles from each bullet that hits him. Once Dean has decided he’s had enough, he waves his hand and his attackers go flying across the street against the closest building’s wall. Then he repeats the process by flinging them back across the street to the opposite building. He doesn’t stop until all the screaming completely dies and he can’t tell one person’s body from another.

It’s true that Dean wanted a good enough reason to attack them, but he’s too busy fuming at the fact his prey might get away. A glance down the street solidifies his thoughts and the father is already making his way up the stairs to the church. While there isn’t anything that can keep him out, he’s more concerned about all the traps and dangers that lie within. If Martin attended the church, there’s a good possibility that someone inside helps aid hunters. Dean’s going to have to plan his next move, or simply wait for someone to slip up.

 

_______________

 

Castiel hurts all over as he makes his way to the door. His head hurts so much he feels he’s going to be sick. Against his better judgment, he looks one last time over his shoulder.

It’s too dark and he can’t make out any sign of anyone, but the yelling has stopped and Castiel already knows why. His blood runs cold a second time when he sees the monster rapidly walking down the middle of the street when he passes under the dim lights of the street lights. He throws one of the main doors open and slams the door behind him.

The noise grabs the attention of the few people inside including one of the church’s parishioners. The middle age man rushes up to Castiel and speaks in hushed tones, “Castiel? What’s wrong?” The man’s eyes widen at the sight of blood, “Holy Father, what has happened?”

“A _demon_.” Castiel’s breath is hoarse and faint from the running, which may be for the best,  “There’s a demon after me!”

The other Father looks towards the door and then back at Castiel and his voice drops to a low whisper, “Are you sure? Are you certain it’s a demon?”

“Yes, yes!” Normally Castiel would be calm and collected, but with everything that has happened, he can’t fault himself for finally losing it. “I have seen things I cannot explain no matter how much I try. I have seen horrible, _terrible_ things. People are dead, and now it’s after me.”

_And he said to them, ‘This cannot be driven out by anything but prayer.’_

Father Murphy nods, and Castiel is amazed at how well the other is taking the news. If it was Castiel he would either think them crazy or would panic, much like he is now, at finding out demons are real. Castiel is suddenly being led down the church aisle and through the building he’s called home since he was a child. The place he knows just as well as the back of his hand.

Or so he thought.

Castiel is brought down into lower floors of the church and stares in disbelief when his brother opens a wall that leads into another room. When the other father flips the switch for the lights, Castiel has to shield his eyes from the intense, bright, white light. Once his eyes adjust, he looks around the room and his skin crawls when he looks over the arsenal of weapons and foreign devices. Everything from guns and grenades to crossbows and bullet-proof vests line the two side walls. Books, vials, and bizarre looking relics line the front.

“What… what is this, Father Murphy?” Castiel’s eyes try to take in as much as he can, and he steps forward to make a closer inspection of the items on the far wall.

Father Murphy sighs, “There are many things you do not know, brother. We tried to keep you away, but it seems the Lord has other plans for you.”

Castiel looks at his brother in confusion, “I don’t understand.”

“The one after you is only one of many, and there are far more monsters out there besides demons.” The other father grabs a flask from the front and starts pouring the liquid contents on a small cloth. He starts wiping off the blood from Castiel’s head who hisses at the contact. “It’s only holy water. Let me clean and treat your wounds and I will tell you as much as I can.”

 

_______________

 

As Father Murphy fills Castiel in on all the dangers of the night and then onto the ones during the day while cleaning Castiel’s injuries, he excuses himself to make a phone call. Castiel waits for the other to return and glances through the books while he waits. The books are old and mostly leather bound. A majority of them are in Latin and other languages that Castiel doesn’t even know. From what he can read, he finds much of the information that was revealed to him earlier. There’s also news clippings about strange disappearances and mysterious deaths with highlighted sections and notes written in the margins.

 After reading for a while, Castiel starts to wonder where the other went. As if on cue, he can hear several steps walking down the stairs. He sets the book he was currently reading, something about exorcisms, and turns around to be met with the Father Murphy and three men dressed much like the late Martin and Travis.

“This is Caleb, Roy, and Walt. These men are going to take you somewhere safer.” When Castiel opens his mouth to interrupt, Father Murphy holds up a hand and continues talking. “No arguments. If this demon was following you, it probably knows you’re here. It’s not safe for you or anyone else here.”

Castiel knows Father Murphy is right, and the last thing he wants to do is put any more people at risk. He’s done enough of that already. The young father frowns at the loss of Martin, Travis, and the men who tried helping him earlier. Getting away from here is the least he can do for them. Castiel solemnly nods, “Yes. Of course. But would one of you stay here just to make sure nothing happens?”

The man named Caleb steps forward, “Not a bad idea.” He looks at the other two, “I’ll stay here and you two go with Father Castiel.”

 

_______________

 

Dean doesn’t have to wait long apparently. Less than twenty minutes and a very familiar van pulls up near the church and three men make their way towards the door. He recognizes every one of them too. More hunters. This could mean one of two things. The first is that they are trying to fortify up their forces, and the other is that they’re going to try and move him somewhere else. Fortifying generally doesn’t work well, and there’s no telling how many other people are inside and would be endangered if there was an attack. Usually hunters use this method as a last ditch effort, and prefer to move an enemy’s target to a more secure and familiar location, but it all depends on which hunters are in running the show.

The demon smiles. They’re going to move him somewhere else. If Dean’s lucky, they’ll move him somewhere he’s also familiar with.

He sees two of the three hunters exit the church with the father following closely behind. Caleb must have decided to stay behind for whatever reason, but the fewer hunters he has to deal with the better.

 

_______________

 

The ride is quiet and awkward. Castiel has a million questions he wants to ask, but he already feels overloaded with all the new information he’s already learned. About fifteen minutes later, the van comes to a stop and when Castiel gets out he’s staring quizzically at another church. “Why here?”

“No offense, but we prefer this church because we know it better, and it’s easier to defend.” Roy’s pulling a large duffel bag from the back of the van and Castiel can hear clinking and assumes it’s more weapons.

Castiel isn’t familiar with this church, but he doesn’t venture outside their own very much so he’s not surprised. The church is much smaller than theirs and significantly less windows. The walls are stone with intricate relief carvings and stone angel statues look down from the top. He stops and takes a moment to stare at the angel statues, one in particular for no reason other than the odd sense of familiarity that it gives him. When he notices he's being left behind, he quickly follows the two men, hunters they called themselves, inside and completely unaware of someone watching nearby.

 

_______________

 

Dean’s watching with a devilish smile from a car he hotwired quickly after the trio of men got in the van back at the previous church. His hunches were right. They took the father to one of the top hunter hotspots in the city. One that Dean knows _very_ well.

 

_______________

 

Castiel fits in with the rest of the clergy quickly, and enjoys helping out around the church wherever he can. They treated his injuries and got him some fresh, borrowed clothes. Just before sunset, Castiel has almost completely forgotten about why he’s here. That is, until he realizes how quiet the church has become. He hasn’t heard from any of the clergy in over an hour, and the music from the chapel has stopped. He looks up from his works slowly and glances around. He can’t hear _anything_. Castiel sets his tools down and makes his way out of the room. His heart starts racing when he’s walked several hallways and hasn’t seen any sign of anyone else.

 

_______________

 

Dean’s covered in even more blood as well as other unmentionables, and he bends over and stares down at an injured clergyman sitting against a wall.  “Where is my angel? He leans in closer, his black eyes bore into eyes of the man now only inches from his face. “Tell me.”

“Go back to the depths of hell you came from, demon.”

The demon pulls away with a sigh. He’s really tired of all this chasing, and as much fun as it has been so far, he just wants to find his angel and be on his way. “You know, it didn’t have to be like this. But no, you had to open your damn mouth with that exorcism bullshit you guys are so fond of. Besides, it’s your fault for getting in the way.” Dean made the mistake of ignoring this one while on his search, and regretted it when he heard the very distinct chant of a demon’s exorcism. Every time it happens, it hurts like a bitch, and Dean’s not about to let one person off the hook just because he’s in a rush.

 

_______________

 

The silence is finally broken by a loud scream and Castiel spins around to face the direction from where the screaming came from.

“He’s coming after you. You better go.” A voice off to Castiel’s side calls out to him and Castiel continues turning to see another one of the clergy standing off in a corner. “Run. Don’t look back.”

Castiel’s head is still sore, but he doesn’t need to be told twice. He needs to leave before things get worse. The demon is after him for who knows what reason, and if he can lead it away from anyone else to protect them he will. Castiel rushes around the hallways until he comes into the chapel and comes to a dead stop.

The two hunters are strung up from the rafters near the ceiling with a variety of wires and rope. Their chests have been cut or ripped open and their insides cover the floor far below. Blood is everywhere and Castiel would be amazed at the sheer amount of it if he wasn't desperately trying to avoid from being sick. When he looks away from the gory scene in front of him, he sees two of the church’s sisters along with half a dozen children are curled up and huddled around one of the podiums crying. Standing in front of them is the same demon that’s been chasing Castiel this entire time. One of the sisters sees Castiel enter the room and sends him a pleading glance.

The demon catches the expression and turns to  look in the same direction, “Well, well. What do we have here?”

Castiel steps backwards and his hips back up into the corner of a pew.

Dean completely forgets the people in front of him and begins approaching Castiel, “Nowhere to run my pretty little lamb.”

The young father pulls out his rosary and holds it in his hands and rests his hands on his chin,  “Blessed are the peacekeepers, for they shall be call the children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when… when,” His mouth opens and closes a few times on the words he's can recite in his sleep but has suddenly forgotten. “When they revile and persecute you, and say all kinds of evil-”

Dean’s finally got the father right where he wants him, “Father, father. You should know those pretty words can’t save you now.”


	3. Deuteronomy 31:6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Warnings: Slight voyeurism, kinda master/slave-ish?

_Dean’s finally got the father right where he wants him, “Father, father. You should know those pretty words can’t save you now.”_

 

_______________

 

Castiel takes a slow, deep breath in hopes to slow down his pounding heart. His posture stiffens just a little more with each step the demon takes towards him. Every inch of his body is telling the father to run, but his eyes dart over every other step to the people crowded by the altar. If he leaves now, he’s leaving them to the mercy of the demon.

 

_______________

 

Dean’s smile is wicked, and he runs his tongue across his top lip lewdly causing Castiel’s jaw to clench and nostril’s to flare slightly. “Finally stopped running?” The demon’s eyes follow the father’s and when he finally turns his head, his eyes fall land on the ones he left cowering in the corner. He has no idea why they’re so frightened. Dean hasn’t even done anything to them. It’s true he did dispose of Roy and Walt a bit more brutally than he originally intended right in front of them, but it’s not like he’s done anything to _them_.

Unless they plan to start trouble, which is highly unlikely considering their current status, Dean’s got more pressing matters to attend to. He turns back to his angel, “What’s the matter, angel? You seem a little distracted.”

“Let them go.” Dean’s impressed by the fearless tone in the father’s voice. For everything he’s seen in such a short time he seems to be handling things well. On the outside at least. It’s a little hard for Dean to miss the sound of the father’s racing heart and his hard breathing. “They have nothing to do with this.”

Things could finally be going Dean’s way, “And why would I do that?”

“Take me instead.” Dean can’t believe his ears. The father is giving himself up for free and he doesn’t even know it.

“That sounds a lot like you want to make a deal.” After every problem he’s had so far, he’s not about to let this opportunity pass him. He has to make sure this goes perfectly. “Well, unfortunately for you, I’m not in the soul dealing business.

Dean takes a satisfaction in the way the father’s face drops at the words. “But…” Dean eyes Castiel up and down again, “I’m sure we can think of something.”

And bless his little heart, the father looks honest to God confused, “I don’t understand.  I can’t possibly have anything else you would want.”

“If that’s how you feel,” Just one more push, Dean thinks. “I might have to pick up where I left off.” There’s nothing to pick up, he hasn’t come anywhere near any of them, but the father doesn’t need to know that.

That seems to hit home, and the father’s eyes widen in fear. “No! Wait.” There’s a slight pause, but it doesn’t worry Dean in the least. “Anything.”

And there’s the one word that couldn’t make Dean any happier. It must show on his face too, judging by the panic in the father’s eyes. Dean leans in close next to the other man’s ear and whispers just softly enough that the others can’t hear. “Just you, angel.”

Castiel frowns and Dean knows that the father hasn’t figured it out yet, “But you said-”

“I said I don’t want your soul.” His tongue darts out and he licks a stripe along the shell of Castiel’s ear. “I want everything else.”

 

_______________

 

Castiel knows what the demon wants. A few things may fly over his head from time to time, but he’s not completely ignorant. If that’s what the demon wants, so be it. It could be worse and if it will save lives, he’s more than willing to throw himself into the fire. If he can get more out of it though, it would be better. “Fine.” He can feel the demon smiling against his skin. “But I have conditions.”

The demon’s smile falters, “Such as?”

Castiel realizes how ridiculous it is to be negotiating with a demon, but he has to try. “From now on, you will refrain from hurting _anyone_.” He can already sense the demon objecting so he continues, “Unless it is to protect yourself.”

“Or you.”

The father had not expected that response and it takes a few seconds to collect his thoughts again. “If an innocent person is in need-”

“Innocent is such a bullshit word, Father.” Castiel will have to be more careful, it already feels like he’s starting to lose the demon’s interest. He can’t see his face, but the tone of his voice tells him everything.

“If someone is in need and I ask you, we help them." A pause. "Do this, and we have a deal.”

“No, Father!” One of the sisters calls out, but Castiel has already made his decision.

“So, let me get this straight.” The first part is spoken loud enough for everyone to hear, but the next few words fall to the low and deep whispers from before. “I play nice demon, no smearing any of your precious church goers or the otherwise mundane, and you’re mine?” The demon wraps one arm around Castiel’s waist and brings him close. “You’ll give yourself to me _completely_?”

 _Be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them,_  
_for it is the Lord your God who goes with you._  
_He will not leave of forsake you._

"And you help those in need when I ask," Castiel nods his head knowing the Dean can feel the gesture, "Yes." But it’s not enough.

The demon uses his free hand to pull the Father’s chin up so that he’s forced to stare him in the demon’s pitch, black eyes. “No, no. I need your word, Father.”

“You have my word.”

The low and rumbling laugh that follows Castiel’s dark promise sends shivers across his whole body, and suddenly Castiel wonders what he did wrong.

“All that’s left is to seal the deal.” The demon brushes his thumb against Castiel’s bottom lip. “And you know how we do that, right, angel?”

Castiel can’t help the sneer that crosses his face, “I’m afraid I don’t go around making deals with demons on a regular basis. To be honest, I didn’t even think monsters like you truly existed until I had the misfortune of running into you.”

“Is that so?” The demon growls in a playful manner. He’s more amused by the sudden ferocity of Castiel, and he’s going to have even more fun breaking it apart. “Well, then. We’re going to have to change that now, aren’t we? How about I give you a hint?” The hand on the brunette’s chin slides around so it grasps at the base of Castiel’s neck. The demon’s tongue flicks out again and licks along Castiel’s bottom lip.

As if Castiel making a deal with a demon in a church wasn’t bad enough, now he has to kiss said demon in said church to complete said deal. He’s hoping it doesn’t go any further than that at least. Hesitantly, he leans forward and, before he can talk himself out of it any more than he already has, Castiel presses his lips against the demon’s.

He can feel a smile against his lips and before Castiel knows what happening, the demon pushes his lips hard against Castiel’s. The hand that Castiel lost track of has slipped down and pulls Castiel’s hips flush against the demon’s causing the father to gasp at the contact. It’s the opportunity the demon has been waiting for and his tongue dives into Castiel’s mouth turning the kiss more rough, more heated. Castiel is overwhelmed and it takes him longer than he would like to admit to push himself away from the demon.

The Father pulls and looks away. First in the direction behind Dean, “Please. Not here. Not…” then quickly off to the side.

 

_______________

 

Oh. That’s right. Dean almost forgot they had an audience, and as much as Dean would love to defile the good Father in a church, he would much prefer having the other to himself. At least for the first time. Maybe next time he’ll take his angel in front of an entire congregation just for the hell of it.

There’s no escape for the Father now, and he can take his time and do whatever he sees fit to him and as many times as he wants. So it would be putting it lightly that Dean is in a good mood, and he’s willing to cut the Father a little slack.

For now.

Dean releases his hold on the father and gestures to the door. The human takes one last look at the quivering bodies by the podium and makes his way to the door with Dean following close behind.

Once outside, and Dean directed them to the back door rather than the front, the father shivers from the cold, brisk air and lack of a coat. Dean jingles a set of keys, which startles and grabs the attention of the man freezing in front of him. “You got a name, angel?”

He can see the man struggling with giving Dean an answer, but it pleased when he gets one. “Castiel.”

“Oh,” Dean smiles and shifts on his feet. “How about that? You really _are_ an angel.” His smile grows when Castiel seems surprised by Dean’s comment.

Rather than question why a demon would know anything about angels, Castiel chooses to stay silent. “I’m Dean by the way. You didn’t ask, but I figured you’d need a name to be screaming later.”

Castiel looks away and crosses his arms and pulls his head close to his chest. Dean walks up behind the father and slides his arms around him. One hand starts to untuck the other’s shirt as the other continues dipping lower, “My little angel cold? Don’t worry,” Dean pushes his hips against Castiel’s ass showing him just how aroused and truthful he was about his remark about screaming his name. “I’ll warm you up in no time.”

With a strength Castiel knows he has no chance of fighting against, the Father is practically thrown face first against the trunk of a blue car. Dean is immediately back against him, hands pressed on the metal on either side of his head. Now Castiel is shivering for reasons other than the cold. He knows what was going to happen when he made the deal, but it still didn’t do anything to prepare him for this.

Nothing happens though, and when his back is cold again he realizes that Dean isn’t pressing up against him anymore. He hears a click before he’s pulled harshly away from the car trunk and then thrown inside. The last thing Castiel sees before the trunk slams shut is the demon leering down at him with his dark, heartless eyes.

 

_______________

 

There’s no telling how long they have been driving, and Castiel is pretty certain he fell asleep at least once or twice along the way. He starts to shift around when the car comes to a stop on what sounds like a gravel road or parking lot and then the shuffling of what could only be Dean getting out of the car.

Sure enough, when the trunk is opened Dean is staring down at him much like he had when he first locked Castiel inside. Dean yanks Castiel out from the trunk and Castiel takes in his surroundings as much as he can as he’s being dragged off God knows where. They’re at some motel that’s far off from the city in the middle of nowhere. He sees a sleek and well-kept classic black car, but otherwise the place looks deserted.

Dean, who has a firm grip on Castiel’s arm, unlocks the door and pulls them both inside. He releases Castiel to lock the door behind him.

The room is larger than Castiel imagined from the outside though the state of the room leaves much to be desired. The walls have a gaudy cream, bordering on sickly yellow wallpaper and there strange, flower patterned partitions between the sleeping area and the living area that have worn, metal chairs with vinyl seats of an equally gaudy design. The floor has a deep red shag-like carpet and there are a few stains that Castiel can’t bring himself to think about.

It turns out that he doesn’t have time to think about them if he even wanted, and he hears the telltale sounds of old bends springs groaning. He should know better than to look, but Castiel’s can’t catch himself quick enough. Lying on the one Queen size bed with his legs crossed at the ankles and his arms crosses behind his head on a pillow is Dean. Even though Dean’s eyes have changed to his vessel’s normal state, it does nothing to ease the twist in Castiel’s stomach.

“Alright, angel. Strip.”


	4. Revelations 9:21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to the anon who sent me a message on my writing blog. I was really bumming out, and you gave me the pickup I needed to get my butt back in gear. This chapter is for you (hope you like porn haha)
> 
> Warnings this chapter: Dub/Con. Smut.

_It turns out that he doesn’t have time to think about them if he even wanted, he hears the telltale sounds of old bends springs groaning. He should know better than to look, but Castiel’s can’t catch himself quick enough. Lying on the one Queen size bed with his legs crossed at the ankles and his arms crosses behind his head on a pillow is Dean. Even though Dean’s eyes have changed to his vessel’s normal state, it does nothing to ease the twist in Castiel’s stomach._

_“Alright, angel. Strip.”_

_______________

Castiel doesn’t move at first. He’s not even certain if he’s breathing. Although he was expecting something along those lines, Dean saying it so openly and without any sense of shame catches him by surprise. He lets out a loud sigh and starts to disrobe in rushed, hurried movements starting with the white paper collar.

Apparently that’s not what Dean had in mind. “Whoa, whoa. Slow down a bit there, angel.” Still grinning, Dean’s eyes cloud with what Castiel can only assume is lust, “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

The words seem to hit Castiel a bit more harshly than he would like. There’s no way he can deny the fact he made a deal with a demon, but a part of him tries blocking out the details such as the fact this is a _lifelong_ promise. He probably should have taken the time to flesh out some of the details of their “agreement,” but Castiel was so worried at the time, he rushed into it without thinking carefully about the consequences. Assuming the demon keeps his end of the bargain, which he really shouldn’t considering the fact it’s a _demon_ , Castiel only has to worry about keeping his end of the deal.

The question is what is his part of the deal? Now that he’s taking the time to think about it, his part of the deal is vague to say the least. His soul is his own, the demon even said it wasn’t interested, but everything else was given up in return. Given the first command and the look in the monster’s eyes, it’s a safe assumption that the demon plans on using Castiel’s body for carnal needs, but is there more? Is he allowed to keep his mind and speak for himself anymore, or is he merely going to be kept like a trophy? Once he becomes old or Dean simply gets bored with him, is he allowed to cancel their deal? The more he thinks about it, the more distressed Castiel becomes.

He’s generally good at schooling his features, but his internal dilemma must show on his face because Dean’s gives Castiel a questioning look. He doesn’t look amused either. The father doesn’t know the first thing when it comes to disrobing in front of others for show, but he lets his hands slowly work over his dress shirt’s buttons and hopes it’s enough to appease the demon. When his eyes glance up, he notices that the hard crease in “Dean’s” brow has lessened and his shoulders are less tense. The Father exhales a deep breath realizing he quite possibly escaped a dangerous and likely painful situation. Wherever this is heading towards, will probably end up in the same place, but he’s in no rush to get there. If the demon wants Castiel to take his time, he has no problem in doing so if only to prolong the inevitable just a little longer.

 

_______________

 

To say Dean wasn’t pleased when Castiel stopped was lightly putting it. Conflicting emotions warred with each other as Dean weighed his options. Half of him wants nothing more than to throw Castiel on the bed and simply rip his clothes off, but the other half was taking a great satisfaction in watching the Father disrobe himself in front of Dean. It’s a short lived debate because Dean’s mind veers off track when Castiel starts unbuttoning his shirt again, and much slower. His long, slender fingers lightly brush and unfasten each button with a finesse that Dean can’t wait to make use of.

Castiel pauses again when he undoes the last button, and Dean is really starting to be mad at the fact he told Castiel to go slower. His hands hover around his belt buckle and half way up his shirt as if wondering what to do next. Dean’s eyes flick up in time to see Castiel lick his lips as he settles on going for his belt buckle next. The only sound that fills the room is the quickening heart rate of the father and the soft clinks of metal and pull of leather.

Dean also leaps up from his place on the bed when the Father pulls his belt from the loops of his dress pants at an agonizing pace. He wasn’t able to keep himself from sitting upright though which grabs the human’s attention. Castiel’s heart is racing now and something tells Dean the look he is giving him is far from innocent, but the part that intrigues Dean is the straight face Castiel manages to keep on. It only fuels Dean’s lust further, and he feels the heat starting to pool down in his gut. A wicked smile appears on his face as he thinks of all the wonderful things he’s going to do to Castiel.

Fuck.

The smile falters a bit when he realizes he doesn’t have much in the way of supplies and there hasn’t been any preparation ahead of time. He could still take Castiel, but it will be painful not to mention messy. He’s done it before, but it was less about the comfort of the other person and with Castiel, he wants to make it perfect. He wants to make the Father want him. He wants to make the father beg for it. To need it. He wants to ruin Castiel. _Completely_.

Besides, there’s plenty of time to explore the more kinky stuff later.

Until then, blow jobs and hand jobs will have to suffice. Maybe he’ll be able to sneak out later and get some much needed supplies. As Castiel works the fly of his pants, Dean thinks about the idea of tying Castiel to the bedpost while he runs out to the pharmacy. _God_ , it’s getting him hot. He’ll have to be careful or he’ll pop a boner right in the store. Speaking of boners…

Dean’s hand presses against the bulge in the front of his pants as Castiel unzips the front of his pants and Dean’s going to lose his mind if Castiel doesn’t get the fuck undressed soon. “ _Fuck_.”

He must of said it out loud because Castiel’s attention is on him again and clearly staring at the spot where Dean has started to rub against the front of his blood stained jeans. The father is clearly embarrassed and looks away and dart all over the room in an attempt to look at everything but Dean. The frightened look only encourages Dean, however, and he starts palming himself with more gusto and moans.

 

_______________

 

Castiel stiffens at the sound. This isn’t how it is supposed to be. Just when he thought things couldn’t get worse his body starts to betray him. The thing sitting on the bed is a demon, a demon he sold his freedom to protect the innocent from his evil. A demon that is blatantly rutting against his own hand as he watches Castiel strip his clothes and what feels like his dignity. To make it even worse, Castiel can’t help but find himself physically attracted to the poor person the demon chose to inhabit.

That’s when he remembers that there’s a person in there. He’s trapped inside his own body and forced to watch as his body does unspeakable things to others. There’s no breaking the deal for fear of the demon running loose, but he has to know. “The man…”

Dean quirks an eyebrow at Castiel and his hand slows but makes no sign of stopping.

“The body of the person you _possessed_ ,” he knows this is clearly not the time to be asking questions or speak so venomously towards the very demon he sold himself to. He’s not even sure he wants to know the answer of the question he can’t even bring himself to ask.

Something seems to click in the demon’s eyes, and Castiel guess the demon must know what he’s trying to ask. Dean’s smile returns and it does nothing to calm his nerves. “Weird, huh?”

The question throws Castiel and he tries to mask his confusion, but he knows it undoubtedly must show.

“I’m not possessed. I’m one-hundred percent me.” That doesn’t make any sense. From what he read, demons possess humans but what Dean says is contradicting the supposed facts. He must have said it out loud because Dean immediately responds, “True, but I’m a special case.” Dean pouts his lips slightly and shrugs, “I guess I’m just partial to my meat suit.”

There’s a story here, but it doesn’t seem like Castiel is going to get much more from him if the look in his eyes is anything to go by. He knows it shouldn’t change anything, he’s still very much in danger, but he can’t help but feel a little more at ease at knowing there isn’t anyone trapped inside. The demon could be lying, but why would a vile creature like it say something that would comfort him? What could it possibly gain from that?

Dean’s eyes blink to the dark voids again, and Castiel reads that as the end of the conversation and, namely, his cue to continue. His movements are awkward if not because of his lack of experience, the abrupt change back to the task Castiel was given. Ignoring his shaking hands, the father goes back to fumbling with the hem line of his dress pants. Given Dean’s voyeuristic behavior, Castiel decides it would be easier to avoid looking at the demon and focus on removing his clothes.

The one benefit to the short lived break was that Castiel was able to calm down, both mentally and physically. Dean’s moan stirred something within Castiel and that thought alone bothers him. He gave his vows and to see him starting to crumble so quickly because of a demon nearly makes his skin crawl. Is it possible that the monster is using magic on him, or is this some hidden part inside him being brought out by Dean? Whatever the case may be, he has to steel himself against the temptations the demon may bring out. Just because he’s given himself to Dean to use as he pleases doesn’t mean he’s allowed to enjoy it.

At least that’s what he keeps telling himself.

It’s hard to concentrate on his own thoughts when he knows he’s being watched so intensely by someone with such a deep seated lust. It’s jarring to say the least. Castiel knows he’s been the subject of wandering eyes from time to time, but nothing like this. He’s never been unique or special enough to warrant such a strong attraction. He probably might have even been flattered had it not be for the situation he’s been thrown into and the lives that were taken.

Thinking about the people who lost their lives trying to aid Castiel brings the father back down to his senses. His hands steady and his hands slide his pants over his hips, leaving him in his boxers and his dress shirt now precariously hanging off his shoulders. He’s slightly shocked when he stands back up to see that Dean has moved to sit in front of him on the edge of the bed, his own shirt removed and his jeans and boxer briefs pulled down just enough to slip his hard erection out. One hand shamelessly strokes himself languidly as the other reaches out and hooks his index finger inside the elastic of Castiel’s boxers.

 

_______________

 

Dean tugs at the last layer of clothing that shields Castiel's body from him, causing the father to step forward. He licks his lips as he stares pointedly at Castiel’s waistline. He’ll let his angel give him a proper strip show later, right now Dean wants to remove the last layer between him and Castiel himself.

He frowns and his eyes narrow when he sees the father is completely unaroused. That just won’t do at all. Demon or not, Dean can’t stand the idea that his little angel isn’t getting anything out of this. Castiel is just _staring_ at Dean. Oh. He’s playing the fucking martyr and Dean’s not going to have any of that.

To prove this point, he looks up and directly into Castiel’s eyes with a sneer on his face. Dean’s impressed that the young father doesn’t seem fazed by the glare where even most hunters have been known to recoil from it. While Dean doesn’t like the fact that Castiel isn’t responding in the ways Dean wants the most, he can’t help but feel turned on by the father’s bravado, however stupid it is to treat a demon with such.

Dean stands up and throws Castiel down on the bed, shucking off his jeans before climbing on top of him. Castiel’s muscles are tense and Dean goes to work at trying to loosen him up. He leans in and kisses Castiel deeply as he slots the two of their bodies close together. His hands run up and down the father’s sides. The father kisses Dean back hesitantly at first, clearly not used to doing this sort of thing but when Dean pulls away to give the father some air, Castiel reaches forward and pulls Dean’s lips back to his own in a much more heated kiss. A kiss that has even Dean reeling.

Castiel’s mouth is almost punishing and clearly in control, but having their waists pressed together Dean still notices the lack of arousal on the father’s end. The father must still be thinking solely on their deal, and now Dean has made it a goal to distract Castiel away from those thoughts to more pleasurable ones.

The demon licks his tongue across Castiel’s lips causing him to gasp, and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue inside and along Castiel’s. Now taking control of the kiss, he goes back to running his hands gently across Castiel’s surprisingly tan skin. Another gasp rips out from Castiel’s mouth when one of Dean’s hands brush up against one of Castiel’s nipples.

Dean smiles against Castiel’s mouth and softly rubs his fingers in circles against the now hardening flesh. He takes great pride in the small whimper that escapes Castiel’s lips and it provokes Dean to kiss him even harder, ignoring the light burn of stubble against his jaw. He decides to overwhelm Castiel’s senses, and while he’s attacking the Father’s mouth and rubbing his thumbs with more pressure on his apparently sensitive nipples, Dean cants his hips against the man below him.

It gets the desired response as Castiel isn’t quick enough to stop his loud cry or his own hips bouncing to meet Dean’s. The demon rolls his hips again to get the same glorious sound from before, and with only a small layer of cotton of Dean’s boxer briefs that managed to slide back up during their movement between the two of them, he can finally feel Castiel start to harden.

 

_______________

 

No, no, no, no, _no_. Castiel wants to curse his body for betraying him, and he wants to chalk it up to his personal lack of intimacy, but whatever the case, he hates himself for letting his body react without his permission. He has to break the kiss and throw his head back to get some air.

When he does, Dean rolls his hips again eliciting another gasp from Castiel and then dives his head in the crook between Castiel’s neck and shoulder, lavishing the skin as he continues thrusting his hips against the Father’s. Dean starts sucking and nibbling at the soft, tender skin and his hands slide down Castiel’s sides and down to his waist.

 

_______________

 

Now that Castiel’s resolve is starting to crumble under Dean’s attention, his hands reach down and around to squeeze the father’s tight and firm ass as he grinds his erection against the other’s. He continues his assault until he manages to elicit a soft moan from Castiel, and Dean takes that to move on and slips one of his hands around to pull his boxer briefs back down and exhales deeply at the feeling of skin against skin.

The father is panting and a light sheen of sweat is starting to glisten on his skin, and Dean can tell he’s struggling and fighting to keep some sense of control… and failing miserably.

 _Perfect_.

He’s finally starting to unravel Castiel and moves on to take him over the edge. Dean takes both of their cocks in his hand and starts to stroke them together. While Dean occasionally likes adding in a little pain to the mix, he’s not sure he wants to do that to Castiel yet, especially when he’s got him exactly where he wants him. Giving up on stroking him with a very dry and calloused hand, he gives up on leaving marks on Castiel’s neck and starts to slide down the father’s body pausing only to lick and nip at the hard and slightly red nipples along the way. He then licks long stripes along Castiel’s seemingly amazing hip bones. Turns out this was a brilliant move on his part because Castiel’s hips start moving on their own and breathy moans spill out from his pink, kiss-swollen lips. Dean takes one last look up at the man writhing below him and then takes the tip of Castiel’s erection in his mouth. This time Castiel is caught completely unaware and a loud moan surges out from his lips and his hips thrust forward.

Dean circles his tongue around the head and then up along the slit, gaining him another moan. He begins bobbling his head up and down, taking more in his mouth on each motion downward until he has taken Castiel’s length fully and his nose brushing against coarse hairs. It’s been some time since Dean has deep throated, but it seems he keeps finding more and more perks about being a demon. One reason, being able to have complete control of your gag reflex. He’ll be sure to make good use of that one.

He starts a punishing pace, his head bobbing up and down, never taking his eyes away from Castiel’s face. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it, Castiel’s head is thrown back again. Dean pulls off with an obscene pop, “Come on, angel. Look at me.”

The father jerks at the command, and for a moment Dean thinks he’s not going to comply, but Castiel finally looks down at Dean. Dean _loves_ what he sees. Castiel looks utterly wrecked. His hair is even more disheveled than usual, his eyes clouded with lust, and lips so swollen that if Dean would kiss again if his mouth wasn’t already going back down on Castiel.

Castiel’s eyes widen and his jaw drops open the moment Dean’s wet mouth consumes Castiel’s hard cock again and Dean thinks it’s one of the most gorgeous things he’s seen in a long time. His eyes flutter close and his muscles start to tighten under Dean’s hands and Dean knows he’s close. While Dean knows what’s coming, and Dean would laugh at his pun if his mouth wasn’t already preoccupied, but Castiel looks panicked. Confused even. The thought that this is Castiel’s first time makes Dean growl with a joyful possessive feeling and he wonders about all of the other many firsts he’s going to take from Castiel.

The rumbling vibrations from his growling are just enough to send Castiel over the edge, causing him to shake almost violently and spill into Dean’s greedy mouth who swallows as much as he can. Dean continues sucking on Castiel’s softening member until he hears soft whimpers from Castiel.

Loud panting and loud, quick heart beats are the only sounds that fill the otherwise quiet room. Dean’s smirk is vicious and proud, but it’s difficult to keep it on his face as his own erection is bordering on painful.

He crawls back up Castiel’s blissed out form and stares back down at the father, “All right, little lamb. My turn.”


	5. Proverbs 15:1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that this fic is primarily dominant!Dean, but that doesn’t mean the same as top!Dean (at least to me). If you prefer top!Dean or top!Cas only, then you might want to stop now because they will be switching places. A lot.

_He crawls back up Castiel’s blissed out form and stares back down at the father, “All right, little lamb. My turn.”_

_______________

 

Even though Castiel foresaw Dean expecting something in return, he still is not ready for the words that spill out so soon after his climax. It probably doesn’t help that his body is so spent, physically _and_ mentally, from all the events that have been nonstop since he ran into that alleyway.

The demon is watching him intently as Castiel struggles to sit up on shaking arms. As he attempts to sit up, he slips on one of the cuffs from his dress shirt and falls back against the bed. A soft chuckle escapes from the demon’s lips and he sidles forward to kneel between Castiel’s legs.

 

________________

 

Dean can’t help but preen at the thought of rendering his little lamb so exhausted on their first go even if it means he won’t be getting a mind shattering blow job in return. That’s okay though. Dean can think of plenty of other things to do instead. “Already spent, angel?”

He ignores what is obviously a glare, and slides a hand down his chest not missing how Castiel’s eyes follow the motion. Dean adjusts his boxer briefs to sit a little lower on his hips and then wraps a hand around his almost painful erection. Castiel’s eyes immediately look away, and Dean’s not happy about that at all. He leans forward mere inches from the father’s face, his eyes black, and with a commanding voice he hasn’t used in front of Castiel before says, “Look at me.”

The demon can feel Castiel stiffen below him, and it takes longer than he would like before the father acknowledges Dean’s demand. He wants to punish the father for being so stubborn, but that would ruin everything he’s done so far to ruin the man. Things are already going so well, or at least that’s what he believes, so he will just have to be creative with his punishment so that it draws Castiel closer rather than making him resent Dean.

Dean pulls away with a smirk when he knows he has Castiel’s full attention. He can see the father staring into his eyes, and is doing everything he can to avoid looking away when the demon sits up straight on his knees again. Dean lets out a breathy sigh when his hands grasp and stroke his cock in one long pull. His smile widens when he can see Castiel’s eyes almost slip downward and his Adam’s apple bob when the man gulps.

“You should be a little more grateful, you know.” Castiel narrows his eyes at the demon when Dean speaks, but still refuses to break eye contact. “I could be a _lot_ worse given my nature, and I’m even allowing you to take a rest when you haven’t satisfied me yet.”

He’s baiting the father, and it seems to work when he rises at Dean’s comment, “You want me to be grateful? For _this_?” Castiel glares fiercely at the demon and spits the next words venomously, “What could I possibly be grateful for? You’ve killed numerous people to get me for your debauchery, you left me no choice but to make a deal with you, and you forced me to break my vows of celibacy!”

Dean’s getting hotter by the second, the sound of Castiel’s deep voice laced with anger and even his defiance is a massive turn on for Dean. It’s confusing though, as that’s never happened before. Usually someone’s disobedience turns him cold, but when Castiel does it, it only spurns him on more. His hands are picking up speed on his strokes, and a moan escapes his lips at the word ‘celibacy.’ The sound of silence that follows quickly fills the room; the only exception is the slick, wet sounds of Dean working his hand on his erection.

Castiel’s eyes widen and Dean smiles at the father picking up so quickly. “Are you-” Castiel shuts his mouth and Dean knows that he doesn’t need to continue because they both know exactly what’s going on.

 

_______________

 

Castiel doesn’t even know why he’s asking, especially since it’s only encouraging the demon’s behavior. For whatever reason, the demon’s arousement only seems to grow with his own ire. The demon actually _likes_ Castiel yelling at him. It seems there’s nothing he can do to deter Dean. He’s not sure if he's thankful for that or not. On the positive side, he’ll consider this a blessing in disguise because Castiel’s outburst could have cost him dearly. While he’s disgusted at the thought of the demon using it for his carnal pleasures, at least Castiel doesn’t have to worry about what Dean would have done if he got angry instead.

Regardless, Castiel decides to keep his mouth shut and ignore any more provocations the demon may throw his direction. Now, however, with his silence the other sounds now flood the room and it’s near impossible for Castiel to ignore. The smirk hiding amongst Dean’s blissed out expression tells Castiel that the demon knows he wins either way.

As if to prove the matter, Dean lets out a loud and unrestrained moan. His breathing grows heavier, and the slick sounds of the demon rutting against his hand fill the room in between his moans.

It’s _infuriating_.

He’s being forced to lie here and watch as the demon pleasures himself above him, but the anger churning in his gut begins to fade when an odd thought interrupts. Aside from Dean making Castiel strip down his clothes and now watch, and really that’s not quite the right way of putting it. Castiel has been staring at Dean’s green eyes rather than the act itself, but Dean hasn’t really forced him to do anything. Something unnerves him at the idea that the demon hasn’t forced himself on Castiel. There’s no doubt in his mind that he could deny it and blame everything that transpired minutes earlier on Dean, but that wouldn’t make it true.

 

_______________

 

There’s a sudden change in Castiel’s mood and Dean picks up on it almost immediately, but it’s kind of hard to miss when someone goes from “ _I will smite you where you stand_ ” to “ _I’m five seconds away from being sick_.” It’s jarring enough that it causes Dean to stop his movements.  “You alright there, angel?” And Dean can’t believe he let that slip. He can’t show concern because he’ll lose any kind of power he holds over Castiel if the Father thinks he’s actually worried about him. “You’re lookin’ a little green and if you’re going to be sick, it’s going to kill the mood a bit.” He supposes it’s a good enough save as any.

 

_______________

 

What? That’s… Castiel stares at Dean in shock at the words. He was feeling slightly sick at the mere thought that what he allowed Dean to do to him earlier was not completely unwanted, but now?

The Father knows a cover when he hears it. He’s listened to enough confessions to know when someone is trying to hide their true feelings or intentions behind a mask they’ve been forced to wear for long enough that they actually believe in it.

Thinking further on it, he goes back and revisits his encounters with Dean with a more open outlook, or as open as one can given his current position. He found the demon being beaten by the two hunters in the alley who managed to catch Dean unaware. Then there were the gang members not that far from the church and, while Dean certainly provoked them, the gang didn’t stand a chance even with their guns and surprise attack. After that, there was the massacre in the church. It’s impossible to forget the way he saw the two hunters strung up from the rafters of the church’s main hall, but Castiel also remembers the gun casings on the hard floor. He may be jumping to conclusions, but looking at it all it all matches. But why?

Not _once_ did Dean attack first.

Dean has started stroking himself above Castiel again, but the Father focuses on the almost panicked, green eyes of the demon above. “Tell me about yourself.”

“What? _Now_?” Dean sounds incredulous and Castiel can’t say he’s surprised, but it will hopefully be a good enough distraction and can possibly clear up a few questions Castiel can’t seem to make sense of.

 

_______________

 

Shit. Shit shit shit. One slip up, one _fucking_ slip up and Castiel somehow is already starting to unravel the pieces.

He’s supposed to be in complete control here, and he’s fucking up royally. There’s still a possibility he can fix this.  Dean gives Castiel what he hopes is his best sly smile, “Man, whatever rocks your boat, Father.”

“You weren’t going to kill them.” It’s a statement, so Dean already knows that Castiel is on to him, and isn’t that just his luck. “You just let me believe you were.”

“Oh, yeah? Is that right?” Dean says with a snarl and now he’s pulling out all the tricks now as he blinks his eyes black in what he hopes to keep the other from reading any more into him.

Castiel ignores Dean’s question as if he doesn’t need to prove it’s truth and pushes on the subject Dean managed to avert away from earlier. “You said that you’re not possessing anyone, that this is truly your own body. What happened to you that made you like this?”

“None of your damn business.” He’s getting defensive and no matter how much he wants to stop he can’t. Dean knows that one of two things is going to happen if this keeps up, and both are bad for him. “Now shut up before I have to punish you.”

“What are you hiding from?” And there it is. Castiel has managed to bring all the terrible memories to the surface at once.

Dean crashes his mouth against Castiel’s effectively shutting up the chatty human. He knows this won’t permanently end the conversation, but it at least buys him time. Castiel tenses up at the action, but Dean feels him completely resign into the kiss to which Dean is thankful. The dark memories caused Dean’s erection to soften a fair amount, but it’s amazing to him how fast simply kissing Castiel can make him hard again. His mind, however, is still not completely in the mood and Dean just wants to get off already. It pisses him off to no end that this is how it’s turning out and he’ll definitely have to blow off some steam later, preferably with Castiel, but right now he just wants to orgasm.

Stroking himself just isn’t doing it for him at the moment, so Dean grabs one of Castiel’s hands in his own and brings it to wrap around his shaft. Castiel freezes up, but Dean distracts him when his tongue slides in Castiel’s mouth. The kissing is even rougher than it was the first time. If Dean wasn’t so upset, he might be able to appreciate Castiel’s sudden and strange enthusiasm in both the kissing and the hand job Dean’s helping him with. He might have get suspicious even.

It doesn’t take much longer before Dean climaxes and spills all over Castiel’s stomach. When he does, he immediately climbs off and gets dressed ignoring the confused man left on the bed. He doesn’t look back at the father as he grabs his keys, “Don’t move an inch. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Where are you going?” The demon stops in the doorway at Castiel’s question.

Dean slowly turns around to look at Castiel, the black completely clouding his eyes. “To get your punishment.”

 

_______________

 

He hasn’t gotten any answers, but Castiel is certain he’s making some kind of progress on Dean’s story. It’s true he’d prefer to simply talk it out with Dean rather than using sex in hopes of getting more information later. Maybe Dean will be more willing to talk later now that he got his own release and some time away from him.

Castiel tries to ignore the unpleasant feeling of Dean’s quickly cooling come drying on his skin. He knows he can wipe it away, but chances are that when Dean said “Don’t move an inch,” he referred to that as well.

Regardless, it doesn’t matter. That’s not important. What’s important is that Castiel’s been given a mission.

He will save Dean whatever the cost.


	6. Matthew 16:26

 

_Castiel tries to ignore the unpleasant feeling of Dean’s quickly cooling come drying on his skin. He knows he can wipe it away, but chances are that when Dean said “Don’t move an inch,” he referred to that as well._

_Regardless, it doesn’t matter. That’s not important. What’s important is that Castiel’s been given a mission._

_He will save Dean whatever the cost._

_________________

 

Dean walks out to the parking lot, anger coursing through his veins. He’s pissed that he managed to let the Father get to him and so quickly, and even more pissed that he can’t take the impala because they're still too close to the city. There’s no doubt more hunters will be looking for them, and while he’s sure he managed to take care of all the loose ends at the second church, there’s no telling what happened with the hunter that stayed behind and the others inside the first church. It would be stupid if they _didn’t_ contact other hunters, especially if anyone got wind of it being Dean, and the demon doesn’t want to take any unnecessary chances when he doesn’t need to.

So, he ends up deciding to take the car of the motel’s now late owner. Shame what happened to the old sod, but Dean likes his privacy, more so now that he has a new toy to pass the time with. They guy shouldn't have cornered him with a shotgun, so it's his own damn fault. Since he came to the motel late in the afternoon on Monday, there’s no one else staying at the place and, with the owner being indisposed of, Dean doesn’t have to worry about any nosy company.

If hunters _do_ decide to come after him, he knows better than anyone that hunters stay at the cheapest and closest to out of town motels whenever possible. He made sure to get rid of the owner without a trace and put up all the signs indicating the place was closed. Again, the only problem is his baby. She kind of sticks out, and before shit hit the fan, every hunter was well informed about the owner and previous owner of the sleek, black, nineteen-sixty-seven Chevy Impala. Dean knows he should get rid of both her and the Father as they will cause more problems for him, but he’ll be damned again if he gives either up now.

After digging around in the motel’s main office he finds several torn up blankets and part of an old tarp. He cringes at the thought of putting such filthy things on his beloved car, but the older and dirtier the more likely it is that hunters will pass it off as a run-down car at an equally run-down motel. Which would mean they would not bother to look at the car hidden beneath the covers. Dean then walks over to the car “borrowed” from the church and rips off the license plates with inhuman strength.

He takes one last look in the direction of the room he left Castiel in, and he just hopes that the human won’t decide to make a run for it now that he’s starting to figure everything out.

 

_______________

 

Castiel is still lying on the bed staring at the ceiling before he hears the rumble of a car engine turn over in the parking lot. His mind is racing at everything that has transpired in the last twenty-four hours, which is frustrating because he knows he should either take this opportunity to escape or get some sleep in before the demon returns.

Having already made up his mind about saving Dean, escape is no longer an option even though it seems that Dean wouldn’t hurt anyone unless provoked rendering Castiel’s side of the deal useless. Though there is no telling if it would cause Dean to start behaving in such a manner if the deal was broken. Sleep, however, sounds like the best thing in the world. He’s got up at five in the morning yesterday to perform all of his morning chores and continued throughout the afternoon, then stayed up late and made the misfortune of making a “quick” run to the convenience store.

A quick run that turned into a run for his life.

Since then, the only times he got any sleep was when he first arrived at the sister church for a brief nap. That only resulted in him waking up in a cold sweat after stirring from a nightmare of Father Murphy and the hunter Caleb being brutally murdered by an unknown, female demon. The only other time was when he slept briefly in the trunk of the car that Dean used to bring him here. He could count the time when he hit his head and passed out, and maybe he should make sure he doesn’t have a concussion, but that was minutes at most. Then there’s the overwhelming amount of physical activity he’s done in such a short time frame plus the emotional stress that he’s had to endure. It’s no wonder he’s exhausted, but his mind just won’t stop.

Castiel flinches at the itchy sensation on his chest and stomach, but doesn’t make to move from the bed until he’s certain Dean is gone. He goes to the bathroom to quickly relieve himself and grimaces when he catches his reflection in the mirror as he’s washing his hands. Dean didn't bother being discreet and left seveal bruises and other marks on his skin, most of which are on his neck. Quickly leaving the bathroom and the mirror, he stumbles by a large duffel bag sitting on the floor. He knows better than to snoop in Dean’s belongings especially since Dean is already out getting his punishment for being too nosy, but if he’s careful enough it’s possible the demon might not notice.

What he finds in the bag is probably the farthest away from anything he expects. There’s an alarming amount of weapons on top, many that are much like the ones he saw in the church basement and a journal by someone by the name John Winchester. The journal covers a multitude of information on the monsters Father Murphy warned Castiel about. Then it hits him.

Dean was a hunter.

It makes sense. The clothes, the weapons, even the familiarity that Dean seems to have with hunters all tie Dean in with hunters. But why would a hunter become one of the very things that they fight?

Upon further inspection of the journal he sees three more names that stick out, one more so than the others. The owner of the journal, John, was married to a hunter named Mary and the two of them have two sons. Their youngest Sam and their oldest… Dean.

So not only was Dean a hunter at some point but, at the very least, his mother was one too until she retired with John to raise their children. At first glance Castiel assumed that John was a hunter, but in his continued reading, he found out there is another faction under the name “Men of Letters.”

Before he can read any more, he hears a car pull up outside and his heart beats hard in his throat. There’s no reason that Dean should be back so soon unless he forgot something, but Castiel puts everything back in the bag quickly and jumps on the bed. It isn’t until he hears talking outside and another car pull up that his fear evaporates into curiosity.

He’s glad that the motel room is dark enough that he can look out the window without being detected by the people outside. He pulls back the curtain just enough to see two men talking to each other and a third getting out of another car. The two men talking are both Caucasian, but one is a bearded, middle age man with a ball cap and the other is a ridiculously tall man with somewhat long, brown hair and appears around Dean’s age, possibly younger. The tall one looks around almost worriedly before his eyes wander to the third man who is a serious looking African American man walking over to the motel office.

There’s no mistaking who these men are though. Their clothes tell Castiel everything. They’re hunters, and given it’s well past hunting season, chances are they are the monster hunting kind. He knows he should call out to them, no matter how embarrassing it would be in his current state, but Castiel’s mind keeps flashing back to Martin and then to the horrifying scene he walked in on with Roy and Walt. If he goes to them for help, there’s no doubt Dean would come after them too. If by some chance, they manage to get the upper hand on Dean, they’ll exorcise him and then Castiel won’t be able to save him.

Ignoring every nerve screaming at him to go for help, he quietly closes the curtain and sits on the edge of the bed. He’s not sure how long he sits there, but after some time he hears the hunters get back into their cars and head out.

 

_______________

 

Dean’s picking up a few much needed items at a gas station when he feels the hairs on his neck stand on edge. Someone’s watching him. He slowly looks up, his eyes blink black, and in a flash he spins around and grabs the person standing behind him hard around the throat.

“Nice to see you too, Dean.” A woman with dark brown hair, full and round cheeks and a devilish smirk seems completely unbothered by Dean’s threatening grip.

Dean stares at her a few more seconds before releasing her and going back to looking over the shelves. He rolls his eyes, reverting them back to their “normal” state when he can sense the woman trying to stand on her toes to look over Dean’s shoulder and then glares at her when she swipes a box from the pile of things he’s grabbed.

“Oooh.” She spins a box of condoms in her hand like it’s the most fascinating thing. For all he knows, to her it probably is. “Looks like a party. Am I invited?”

Dean swipes the box back, “Go to hell, Meg.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” Her eyes turn just as black as Dean’s and then her eyes turn back just as quickly, the smirk never leaving her face.

“What do you want? I’m kind of busy.” Dean’s not in the mood for Meg’s bullshit. He just wants to get what he came for and head back to the motel.

Meg grabs something from the opposite aisle and adds it to Dean’s pile, “Oh nothing. Just checking up on you and your new plaything.”

Dean doesn’t put what Meg put in the pile back on the shelf and continues on instead, “And how the hell would you know anything about that?”

Meg grabs another item, “Well, it’s hard to miss when the prodigy takes an interest in somebody and starts tearing up the place. You haven’t really been all that active since you came topside.” She adds the new item to the pile. “I gotta say, I like your work.”

“Anything else, Meg?” Dean’s walking towards the checkout not bothering to wait for Meg.

Meg saunters up to Dean and adds one more thing to the pile on the counter, “Yeah. You owe me.”

Dean ignores the odd look the cashier gives them as he’s ringing up the items, and instead growls at Meg, “I don’t owe you squat.”

The smile on Meg’s face tells Dean otherwise. He’s not sure what she’s done, but he knows that look. “Oh, I think you do. Or at least, I think we’re finally even.” She starts picking at one of her nails and says in a rather bored tone, “I helped you clean up some of your loose ends. To be honest, I’m surprised you didn’t do it yourself considering you were already there and all.” Dean pays the cashier as Meg continues, “Since when did you get so sloppy?”

Dean’s about to answer, but the cashier stops him, “Have a nice night!”

There’s a weird look on the kid’s face and it isn’t until Meg speaks up again that he figures out why, “Oh. Those aren’t for us. It’s for him and his pretty boy priest.”

Dean doesn’t wait for the boy’s response and heads off to the door with Meg following closely behind.

“Gotta say Dean, you’ve got good taste.” Dean rounds on her and she shrugs, “What? I’ve seen him. He’s cute. I wouldn’t mind-” She stops when Dean growls at her. “Alright, alright! I get it. Off limits. Sheesh. What a grouch.” Meg leans up on the car as Dean tucks the bag in the passenger seat and closes the door. “Can I at least watch?”

“Goodbye, Meg.” Dean says as he slams the driver side door behind him and turns on the ignition.

Meg immediately pulls away from the car and not a moment too soon because Dean is already pulling out of the spot. “Spoil sport.” Her smirk disappears and her eyes turn black when she sees two cars pass by in the opposite direction. 


	7. Jeremiah 17:9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: very mature chapter for violence and smut.  
> “Spoilin’ for a Fight” by AC DC  
> Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jBAy028wOPk&feature=kp  
> Lyrics: http://www.acdc.com/us/music/black-ice/spoilin-fight

_“Goodbye, Meg.” Dean says as he slams the driver side door behind him and turns on the ignition._

_Meg immediately pulls away from the car and not a moment too soon because Dean is already pulling out of the spot. “Spoil sport.” Her smirk disappears and her eyes turn black when she sees two cars pass by in the opposite direction._

_______________

 

Meg watches the hunters drive by without making any motion to move from where she’s standing, and she’s glad to see they don’t seem to pay her any attention. Luckily for Dean, he didn’t bring that damn black car he’s so fond of. Chances are the hunters would have recognized that immediately, and Meg isn’t in the mood to deal with a bunch of angry hunters right now. Not to mention that Dean wouldn’t so much as lift a finger to help fight them off unless they provoked him. The idiot that Dean is won’t even possess anyone other than his own body because, as much as he doesn’t want any demons to know, Meg knows he doesn’t want anyone to get hurt on his behalf unless they asked for it. The fool is content enough to just go to bars, get drunk, and get laid.

The demon shakes her head and wonders how soon it will be before shit starts to hit the fan. She would put money on it happening sooner than later. Maybe she should start a pool.

_______________

 

Dean couldn’t believe he went to the pharmacy first and completely forgot half the things he meant to. As he was eyeing a certain box and completely ignored the scandalized look an elderly woman gave him, because Dean can only imagine the look he had on his face, his thoughts wandered off the naked man he left back at the motel. Oh, the things he was going to do to Castiel. 

If he’s still there that is.

He frowned at the sudden change in his thoughts. Dean thought about how his first deal had already gone sour and how there wasn’t any real reason that the Father should have listened to Dean about staying put. The more he thought about it, the more upset he was with himself, and the more upset he got with himself, the more he stopped thinking about the things he came for.

When he got about half way back to the motel, he slammed his hand hard on the steering wheel and cursed loudly to no one in particular. He stopped at the closest gas station, and that’s when Meg found him. Dean was still pissed at forgetting a few much needed things and he displaced his anger at the other demon. Well, whatever. She probably did something that deserved it.

_______________

 

He grips his hands tighter on the steering wheel. Dean needs to stop thinking about what’s happened, what he doesn’t even know has or has not happened, and to calm the fuck down. If Castiel is waiting back at the motel like he should be, Dean shouldn’t go back upset. He knows full well what happens when he’s angry, and it’s never good. There are two hunters’ corpses hanging from church rafters and all over the floor that can attest to that.

_______________

 

Dean’s always been a bit short tempered, but when one becomes a demon it grows exponentially. Walt and Roy started mocking Dean about how he was always a good for nothing, and that his father would be disappointed in him if he ever saw Dean fall so low. 

They continued baiting Dean and the demon finally lost it when they started talking poorly about his younger brother, Sam. “The only thing worse than you being a demon is that piss poor hunter brother of yours. Dumb boy can’t even protect his own family.”

The moment the words left Roy’s mouth, Dean was on him. He held his hands tightly around Roy’s throat, but just gently enough so the slightest amount of air could wheeze through. Walt didn’t waste any time unloading his clip into Dean, but the demon’s attention was fully focused on Roy. Roy, on the other hand, was too busy attempting to wrench himself free by prying Dean’s hands off of him.

Dean was too far gone. The darkest part of what was left of his soul was at the forefront, and there’s no way they were getting a quick death like Martin and Travis. Oh, no. Dean’s “training” as Alastair called it, finally came in handy. He made their deaths as slowly and as painful as possible. In fact, Dean’s fairly certain they were on their last few breaths of life when the father finally stumbled into the chapel.

He started small. The first thing he did, after beating them until they couldn’t stand anymore, was cut off their tongues with the dullest knife he could find. That turned out to be one at the front of the church that Dean assumed was to cut bread for communion. It was still too sharp in his opinion, but he worked the best as he could with his makeshift supplies. After he was satisfied with that, he burned the remaining flesh and a fair amount of their mouths with a cross he used his demonic power to heat up until it was as hot as if it came straight out of a forge. He didn’t want them drowning in their own blood or dying from blood loss because he was just beginning. As much as Dean wanted to take pleasure in their screams as they filled the chapel more heavenly to him than any choir could, he gagged them to keep from alerting Castiel from overhearing. If he heard already, Dean thought the Father would probably rush to where the source of the screams because the fool was always so eager to help. Too  _much_  screaming, however, and the Father would realize he was outgunned and make a run for it again.

Dean switched between the two to give each one time in between his cuts. Torture wasn’t any good if his meat puppets passed out from the amount of pain he put them in. He just started deeper cuts when Roy finally passed out. “Roy, Roy, Roy.” Dean shook his head and made a ‘tssk tssk’ sound with the click of his tongue as if to add insult to the fact that neither had their own anymore. “You should know better than to talk shit if you can’t back it up.” He cuts a little deeper uncaring that the hunter was unconscious at this point. “You mock me and Sammy’s hunter skills, and you can’t even stay awake under the tiniest amount of torture? Pathetic if you ask me.” Dean pauses and shrugs, “Which I guess you can’t seeing as your punk ass went and passed out. Then again, you couldn’t even if you were awake because,” a wicked smile crosses Dean’s face, “oh yeah, I cut out your tongue.” 

He starts to laugh at his own cruel joke and glances over at Walt and his laughs drift off. “Oh, come on. Walt, you wouldn’t know funny if it came up and hit you right in the head.” Dean punches Walt hard in the temple, “See?” Walt falls onto his side and Dean stares down at him, “You’re not laughing, and I’m hilarious.” Walt muffles an angry sound and Dean mockingly holds a hand to his ear, “I’m sorry? I’m afraid I don’t understand no-good-douchebag.”

After that Dean went to work at carving them in a way he only could describe as art. To others, it was far from that, it was a gory and hellish nightmare. That was even something close to what one of the sisters said as she and the children wandered into the chapel as Dean was just starting to string them up from the ceiling on makeshift hooks and ropes made from parts of broken candelabras and the ropes used to block off aisles and pews. 

Dean was too preoccupied with his “toys” to pay her any attention, finally making cuts from between their collarbones all the way down to their navel and start lifting them up to the rafters. Apparently the children were too scared to be ushered out by the sisters and stared up horrified at Dean as he finished his work. Once Dean was satisfied, right around the time the hunters’ insides started slipping out onto floor in a sickening splattering sound, Dean brushed his hands against each other in a mock attempt to clean them off and made his way over to where the scared group was cowering.

As it happened, that’s exactly when his angel walked through the door and right into his hands. 

_______________

 

Dean scowls at himself for allowing his mind to wander off again just when he just told himself to stop. Luckily he’s practically back at the motel with only a few miles to go. He cranks up the music loud and starts singing loudly when he hears “Spoilin’ for a Fight” blare across the speakers. It seems to calm him down for the most part, and the tension is starting to ease out of his shoulders. He even starts beating his hands along with the rhythm of the music. By the time he gets back to the motel he feels much better, and he’s still singing the lyrics after he turns the car off and the slams the car door behind him.

The motel room is dark, and Dean wishes he turned it on before he left so he could see the initial reaction the father has as Dean walks through the door. He’ll just have to make due with a blinded Castiel instead, which he has no problems with because the Father will be more occupied with covering his eyes rather than his body, and Dean has no problem with that at all. 

Standing outside of the door, he continues his singing although softer now and checks the white rock he placed in front of the door. He left the stone in place to ease his paranoia. Dean found that the white stones are littered throughout the gravel parking lot and took one to see if the door had been opened at any time while he was gone. Since Castiel is still new in regards to the world of the Supernatural and how to hunt them, he has no idea how to pick up on the small things like a rock purposely placed in front of a door.

Dean smiles when he sees the rock still in its original place, and he sets his bags of goodies for Castiel on the ground as he digs out the motel key. He flips the switch on and, sure enough, the Father is lying on the bed right where he left him shielding his eyes from the sudden bright light and naked as the day he was born. The demon takes the opportunity to give the father a quick look over before Castiel has the chance to recover from the light blinding him. Picking up the bags, he closes the door behind him and tosses the bags to the small table sitting in front of the motel window. Castiel is still blinking and holding a hand up to his face in an attempt to adjust his eyes to the light. 

The demon licks his lips at the sight before him. Castiel seemed to take Dean’s  _request_  to heart. Castiel is on the bed and the evidence from their earlier “activities” still covers his skin. As much as Dean loves that Castiel obeyed him, he knows that can’t be comfortable and Dean’s not exactly keen on sharing the discomfort either. 

As Dean walks by the bed, he makes it a point to eye Castiel as lewdly as possible, which gives him a glare in return. “Cas, not for nothing, but last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid.” Dean doesn’t bother hiding his leer as he stops at the foot of the motel bed, “You should know. You were there.”

Surprisingly, Castiel only seems to give an even harder glare and Dean shoots him a wink before walking into the bathroom. He grabs a washcloth and runs it under warm water. Then he grabs a dry washcloth in his other hand and walks out of the bathroom. The smile is completely wiped off his face when he sees he sees that the contents of his duffel bag have been disturbed.

Castiel seems to catch on to this fact if his widening eyes are anything to go by, “There were hunters.” 

Dean’s eyes narrow at the other, but doesn’t say anything as he slowly approaches him. He stares down at Castiel for a few minutes to see if there’s any deceit in the father’s words. Instead, Castiel merely stares back at Dean.

“Is that right?” Dean throws the wet washcloth on Castiel’s chest that causes the man to jump slightly at the feeling. “And what exactly did these hunters look like?”

The Father looks questioningly at the washcloth and Dean assumes that Castiel is pondering if he’s allowed to use it or not. “There were three of them. A bearded and middle aged man, a very tall man with somewhat long hair and-”

Dean’s face is directly in front of Castiel’s, their noses nearly touching, and his eyes coal black, before Castiel can get any more words out.  Before Dean can stop himself, he bites out a harsh, “You’re lying!”

Castiel looks up at Dean confused, “Why would I lie about that? I don’t even know who they are.”

The demon spins away from Castiel and rubs a hand on his chin. He’s knows  _why_ they’re here, but why Sam. Why  _now_? There’s no way that they could have gotten here so quickly without already being in the area, which in itself is ridiculous. Dean purposely chose here because of the lack of Supernatural activity within a hundred mile radius. It’s true he’s been almost gone all day and into the early afternoon, but it’s just not possible to get here this quickly. Unless, they knew something was up and were already on their way here.

Turning back around to look at Castiel, Dean sends a threatening look at the other man. “And? What else?”

Castiel takes this time to cover himself with the damp washcloth, which is the exact opposite of what Dean wants. “Nothing. They looked around briefly and left shortly after.”

Dean takes a momentary comfort in the idea that he managed to dodge a bullet for the time being, but it’s a matter of time before they find him. He and Castiel will have to leave sooner than he had planned. But first…

The demon takes the washcloth Castiel is using to cover himself in his own hand and gently starts rubbing the coarse and moist fabric over Castiel. He takes pleasure in watching the Father squirm under his attention. It isn’t until Castiel starts becoming hard that Dean mentally curses at himself. He removes his hand, stands up from where he is sitting on the bed, and walks over to the bags sitting on the table. Dean doesn’t miss the confused, albeit flustered, face Castiel is making as he does so.

“I got you a couple of presents.” Dean’s making sure his back is to Castiel so his angel can’t see the devilish grin on his face. He tosses one of the boxes he picked up from the pharmacy so that it lands next to Castiel on the bed. It’s the very box that he got the dirty look from the woman at the pharmacy. Then he waits as he watches Castiel pick up the box to examine it. 

Dean loves the way Castiel’s face goes from confusion to a paled, horrified expression and then up to Dean with a pleading expression.

“What? You don’t like it?” Dean goes back to sitting on the bed and Castiel immediately looks away. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about. Although some old hag thought it should be.” The demon reaches a hand out and brushes it through Castiel’s hair who tenses up at the contact. “Want me to help?”

At the last comment, Castiel quickly gets up from the bed and out of Dean’s reach, making a beeline for the bathroom. “Regardless of what you think, I’m not inept.”

The bathroom door closes behind Castiel and Dean shucks off his jacket, boots, and socks. He turns on the television and waits patiently for the Father to come back out.

_______________

 

Castiel thinks he is prepared for anything the demon would give him, but an enema kit didn’t even make the list. He should expect as much, and there are still the many other items Dean has tucked away in those bags, but maybe he wasn’t expecting him to be that considerate? Not to say that what Dean is going to do after Castiel finishes is going to be as considerate, but maybe he should just be thankful he got this much. He takes a deep breath and reads over the box.

_______________

 

Dean’s starting to get restless. The box said it would take approximately thirty minutes to run its course, and Dean actually does snort a laugh at his joke, but it’s pushing towards an hour. He’s also pretty sure he heard the toilet running a few times. 

He turns the volume down slightly to see if he can make out anything from the bathroom, and not twenty seconds after he does, Castiel walks out. There’s clearly discomfort written all over his face. Dean’s been there his own fair share of times, but it’s better than the alternative when it comes to clean up.

Castiel has his hands placed in front of him in an attempt to cover himself, and his jaw clenches in what Dean assumes is a nervous habit. The demon loves the transition of the other's nervous anger suddenly evaporate into confusion and then embarrassment as the Father hears what exactly Dean is watching. Dean can see Castiel struggle with himself not to look at the television from where loud moans, rough grunts, and the sound of skin slapping hard against skin are coming from. Instead, Castiel swallows deeply and stares dumbly at the floor, while ignoring the goosebumps on his skin.

“What’s the matter, Father? Never seen porn before?” Dean smiles at Castiel and stretches out on the bed, placing his hands behind his head where it sits on the pillow.

Castiel glares up at Dean and his mouth opens to respond, but is cut off by the sight of Dean before him. Dean took his free time to remove his shirt and undo the button and zipper of his pants to give him some relief of pressure from his straining erection. The Father turns his head to face the wall away from the television just as Dean planned and catches a reflection of the screen in the mirror on the wall above the bed. It’s almost comical to Dean, watching Castiel’s mouth open and close, but Dean is more interested in the fact that Castiel can’t look away from it now that he’s looking at it with an almost curious expression.

The demon continues to watch Castiel carefully as he turns the television off and revels in glee when the Father startles slightly at being caught. “As much as I enjoy watching, I can think of much better things we could be doing right now.”

Castiel jumps again when he turns back to look at Dean who rolls over onto his side and crawls on the bed towards him with a look of want that makes Castiel shiver all the way down to his toes.

Dean’s eyebrows rise as he steps off the bed, “Cold?” His fake concern twists into something much more sinister as Dean steps right up to Castiel close enough that he can feel the other's breath on his skin, “Well, I know how to take care of that.” Gently, he slides one hand around to the small of Castiel’s back and the other reaches down a little lower to grab at the soft skin and firm muscles of Castiel’s ass.

There’s a sharp intake of breath but, even with that, Dean can still see fight behind those almost unreal blue eyes. The fighting doesn’t seem to be all that effective though because Castiel is still too busy covering himself with his hands to do anything else. It isn’t until Dean shifts his hands to pull Castiel’s away, that the Father tenses up in fear again and now Dean knows why.

Somewhere in between Castiel seeing porn and the soft, gentle touches from Dean, Castiel’s body has betrayed him in the way Dean wants most right now. He’s nowhere as hard as Dean is, and Dean purposely kept himself from getting too worked up so soon, but it’s enough to let Dean know he can break through Castiel’s fighting spirit. There’s a part of his angel that wants this or is at least interested, and that’s all the reassurance that Dean needs.

In the next second, Castiel is suddenly being flung onto the bed and wondering how he got there with Dean is staring down at him like he’s a meal before a starving man. Something in the difference in strength must hit something deep in Castiel because Dean doesn’t miss how Castiel’s cock is suddenly more interested in what’s going on around him. The Father, however, still seems intent on fighting him as he pushes up to sit upright and further away on the bed with a poker face that might actually fool Dean if Castiel’s body wasn’t already giving him away.

“Like it rough, eh padre?” The demon doesn’t give the Father a chance to comment and crushes his mouth hard against Castiel’s. He enjoys the way Castiel startles underneath him, but not the way his muscles tense up at the contact. Dean pulls away just barely enough to speak, “You need to loosen up, Father. Being so  _tight_ can’t be very good for you.”

His innuendo seems to fly right past Castiel seeing as the other is unaffected by the comment. To make matters worse, the Father sneers something unexpected. “I’m loose enough, thank you.”

That actually catches Dean completely off guard and his mouth actually drops open as he pulls back and stares at Castiel in disbelief before he can catch himself. When he does manage to recompose himself, his nostrils flare and his eyes darken in a way that is in no way related to his demonic nature. He growls and flashes his teeth as he leans back in and presses Castiel’s wrists down hard against the bed above Castiel’s head. “What a filthy mouth you have there, angel. You know, you’re makin’ it real hard not to just have my way with you.” Dean buries his face up against the side of brunette's neck, licking a long and wet stripe against the skin and pushes his body up against the other’s side.

He leans away of course, which opens up more skin for Dean to lap and bite at. Dean smiles when Castiel’s breath hitches as Dean takes a hard bite at the neck offered to him. It’s not hard enough to break the skin, but it’s more than enough to leave an angry red mark. “You should careful what you say. I might think-”

Castiel’s body jolts as Dean’s left hand freezes from where it was exploring. Dean was attempting to distract the other man with the bite so that his angel wouldn’t notice the way his hand was gently sliding down Castiel’s right thigh and between his legs.

“Looks like your mouth isn’t the only dirty thing you’ve been hiding from me. Here I thought you were a sweet, innocent little angel, but you’re so eager for me that you’ve already got yourself worked out and slicked up for me.” Dean chuckles darkly, “Guess I should’ve believed you when you said you were loose, huh?”

Realization dawns on Castiel’s face, “That’s not what I meant.”

His voice is caught when Dean continues rubbing his finger around the sensitive ring of muscle, “Did you do all this for little ol’ me? Is that why you took so long in there? I would have been more than willing to help.” Dean doesn’t even remember leaving any lube in the bathroom, but he wouldn’t doubt that he did such a thing considering his shamelessness and extreme desire to humiliate the Father. If he had known he already had some, he might not have needed to get any from the store.  Dean huffs a laugh because that’s a lie. He’s going to need a lot more than what he already has before they leave town.

Castiel looks like he’s about to kick Dean away, but catches himself when he remembers his situation. Instead he snarls and raises his chin defiantly up at Dean, “I didn’t do it for you.”

It’s not what he was expecting, but Dean likes this thought just as much as if Castiel had done it for him. “Is that so? You touched yourself in such a  _sinful_  way-”

“I…  I don’t want it to hurt.” The embarrassment causes the anger to lessen, though traces of it linger, and the nervousness to increases exponentially. Then there’s the shame. The shame outweighs everything else. It’s practically rolling off his angel. Castiel’s fear for his well-being must have conflicted with his views at some point while he was in the bathroom, and now it’s catching up to him. Not that Dean is complaining. Far from it actually. With this surprising turn of events, Castiel has made things easier for Dean and the demon is going to take full advantage of the fact.

Unfortunately for Castiel, the smell of fear only drives Dean’s demon side wild with want. Dean knows there’s no way the other can win. While Dean loves the fight and strength of Castiel, his demon loves the scared and innocent side, and both crave the possibility of stripping it all away. “Aww, I’m not gonna hurt you, angel. I’ll take  _real_  good care of you.” He pushes forward again and nips at Castiel’s lips. “I’m gonna have you screaming my name and _begging_ for it. I’m going to ruin you for anyone and everyone else, and you’re gonna fucking love every second of it.”

That comment gets Dean an honest to God whimper from the man under him and Dean files dirty talk under possibilities for later. Right now though, Dean is too busy exploring the inside of Castiel’s mouth to do any more talking. His one hand is still too busy holding Castiel’s hands together above his head, but that doesn’t do anything to stop his free one from exploring again. He can’t take too long this time since Castiel went to all the trouble to get himself ready for Dean, something he still can’t believe. Next time he’ll go slow and have the Father a quivering mess, but for now he’s going to hold to the promise he just made. Castiel may think it was merely a threat or even just words used to make him squirm, but if there’s anything Dean is still good for, it’s keeping his word.

Castiel watches Dean as the demon pulls back and stares down lewdly at his prize, “Let’s see how well you did, huh?” The Father is confused at first, but stares wide eyed when Dean grabs Castiel’s waist firmly and pulls the man towards him. Dean reaches over the side of the bed and quickly fumbles through the bag that he was lucky enough to toss so nearby earlier. He pulls something from the bag but sets it to the side on the bed for now, and instead he pulls Castiel’s legs up and over his shoulders. Making sure he has Castiel’s full attention, he purposefully licks his lips before he leans in between the other's legs. Without warning he licks against Castiel’s entrance and the Father screams and fists his hands in the bed sheets.

Dean’s not a fan of the taste of the lube, but he can certainly get used to the sounds Castiel is making right now. He teases his tongue around and is rewarded with more of the glorious sounds he wants to hear from the man writhing under him. The sounds become even more heavenly when he pushes his tongue through the tight ring. Castiel’s head presses into the mattress causing him to arch closer to Dean’s probing tongue, and it doesn’t go unnoticed as Dean pushes his tongue in further. 

Seeing that Castiel’s cock is fully on board with this party, Dean finally pulls away and savors the small whimper that he gets when he does so. He sets Castiel’s legs back down against the bed, and he reaches back for what he set to the side before and pops the cap of the lube. The sound is loud and it causes the Father to stiffen up again, which is going to make things difficult for both of them unless Dean can get him to relax. He looks up to find Castiel watching for what Dean is going to do next, so Dean decides to give him a nice little show. Without breaking eye contact he licks the underside of Castiel’s cock from base to tip, pouring some lube on his hands discreetly as he does so. Castiel’s eyes immediately close as if more from hiding himself from what they are doing rather than that of pleasure and Dean’s going to have to try harder it seems.

He warms the lube in his hand as he circles his tongue around the head so the cold substance won’t cause Castiel to lock up again. Dean closes his lips around the tip and licks his tongue against the slit encouraging more loud moans from Castiel. 

Dean thinks he has Castiel relaxed enough by the time he working Castiel up in his mouth and massaging his balls in his hand. He slides his free hand back behind the other and smiles around Castiel’s cock at how easily the first finger slides in. Castiel seems too occupied with the hot mouth around him to notice, probably because he did all that work beforehand, and to keep it up Dean moans around him to see if he can slide another finger inside without him noticing.

Turns out the answer to that is no, but Castiel’s moan is not giving Dean any indication of pain. Castiel’s erection isn’t going down any either, so that means so far so good. When he tries to enter a third it’s a little tight and, with the hand not fingering Castiel open, goes back for the lube. He doesn’t bother warming it up this time and pours the liquid directly onto his hand and slides the third finger in. Castiel wiggles under him squirming at the cold, but he does just as Dean expected, which is pushing away from the cold and further into Dean’s mouth.

He starts pumping his fingers in and out encouraging a rhythm for Castiel to rock his hips against his fingers and in his mouth. When the Father gets caught up in the feeling and begins rocking his hips on his own, Dean starts to scissor his fingers around eliciting more moans from Castiel. At this point Dean’s own erection is starting to get uncomfortable, but he continues to ignore it and he’s thankful he undid his pants before they started. His jaw is starting to get sore, however, and he decides he can slide another finger in. He’s right, but only just so. Castiel is still very tight and judging from the change in sounds it’s bordering closer and closer to uncomfortable rather than pleasure. It’s good enough in Dean’s opinion, though as long as it’s not putting Castiel in pain and there’s no real way around at least a little discomfort… at least in the beginning.

Dean continues to scissor his fingers around, but now he’s looking for that spot that will make it more enjoyable. He knows he’s found it not because of any sounds Castiel makes, and actually Castiel has been quiet for a while now much to Dean’s displeasure, but rather the way his fingers and toes curl up in the sheets. The demon focuses on that spot so that he presses on it every other time he pulls out and pushes his fingers in. In an attempt to get the other to being vocal again, Dean takes as much of Castiel cock in his mouth as he can at this angle while pushing his fingers against Castiel’s prostate at the same time.

Castiel wails and Dean’s only amazed that the Father didn’t rip the sheets with how tightly he’s pulling at them. Dean pulls off of Castiel with a loud pop and removes his fingers, wiping the mess on the sheets next to him. The brunnette's eyes are still closed and his breathing is heavy, so Dean takes this as the perfect opportunity to slick himself up while Castiel isn’t looking.

Dean spreads Castiel’s legs apart and they go easily enough, allowing Dean to crawl between them. He gingerly wraps them around his waist and leans over Castiel with his arms framing the man underneath him so that it’s just enough to cast his shadow and make the Father open his eyes. As soon as Castiel does, Dean starts pushing in easily and is thankful for all their earlier preparation. He slows to a stop when Castiel, unsurprisingly, tenses up yet again. 

Castiel’s stares wide eyed up at Dean only a moment before they squint in an indication of slight pain and his jaw tightens considerably. If that wasn’t a big enough indication, then Castiel’s softening erection is. That won’t do. Dean needs to work him up again if he has any chance of Castiel enjoying this, but when he goes to kiss the Father, the other man pulls away as much as he can in his position with a disgusted look. 

Instead of being angry, Dean can’t help but let out a soft laugh. “What’s the matter, angel? My mouth too dirty for your sweet, innocent one?” The demon leans downs right next to the other man’s ear and in a dark voice and near whisper he softly utters, “But we both know you’re not innocent. Not now. Not anymore” A lick ghosts across the shell of Castiel’s ear before he continues, “and we both  _know_  it.”

The words have a better effect on Castiel than Dean thought they would. Even though the Father turns his head away in embarrassment in soft whimper, there’s no way he can miss the fact it turns the other man on. The resistance is all but gone at this point, and Dean slides further in without effort with a small gasp escaping Castiel’s lips.

Taking advantage of the recent and wonderful turn of events, Dean reaches down between the to take the Father’s cock in his hand stroking gently. “You’re just full of fun and filthy surprises, aren’t you, Father?” Dean pulls out just slightly before he pushes back in and a little further than he was. He’s watching the Castiel carefully as he does so, and he can see Castiel’s inner struggle clear as day. Not long now.

He continues his small, gentle thrusts while pushing in more with each one. Just a fraction harder each time making sure to match the ones his hand works over on Castiel’s cock until he’s finally, blissfully seated inside. Dean pushes himself up so he can look at his accomplishment and it’s then he catches sight of the mirror. He smiles at his reflection before he leans back down and shifts Castiel’s legs to wrap around his waist. 

Dean gives an experimental sharp thrust and wants to cry out in victory when Castiel cries out and his hands immediately clutch to Dean’s shoulders. Castiel looks confused as if he surprised by the sensations he’s feeling, so Dean does it again and there’s no doubt in his mind that Castiel is enjoying it as much as he is. Hell, he might be enjoying it even more.

The demon puts his weight on one hand and shifts Castiel’s hands to wrap around the back of Dean’s neck. Enough of this delicate shit. Dean already knows the Father is turned on by Dean’s little displays of power, so that’s what he’s going to give him. “You might want to hold on tight, angel.”

Once the words are said, Dean grabs Castiel’s hips firmly with both hands and begins pounding in and out at a harsh pace. His hands pulls the Father back and forth with ease to meet his hips on every thrust. 

Castiel’s the loudest that Dean has heard yet and his arms cling tightly around Dean as it’s the only thing he can do as the demon fucks hard and fast into him. The demon doesn’t let up at all, and he drinks up all of the the other's moans and whimpers and even shares some growls and groans of his own. Castiel’s face is the part he loves the most though. His face is lightly covered in sweat and his hair clings to his skin in some places and his cheeks just a fair shade of red from exertion and his heavy breathing. But best of all, he looks so lost like he can’t believe he’s enjoying this as much as he is or even at all. Dean’s so close to breaking him and he thinks he knows exactly how to finish it.

Dean pulls out ignoring the sounds of protest and grabs Castiel. He manhandles him around to where he’s kneeling and now pressed up against the glass of the mirror above the bed. Castiel instinctively put his hands and arms on the glass to keep from being pushed too hard against it. It has got to be cold against the Father’s cheek with how hot his body is running right now. The glass fogs up from Castiel’s warm breath and Dean watches as he tries to claw his fingers against the mirror to find something to hold onto, but there’s nothing. There’s nothing Castiel can use to distract him now. He can’t even pretend anymore.

Castiel nearly screams when Dean pushes inside him again, but this time it sounds a cry of  relief more than anything else. Dean grabs Castiel’s chin and faces him towards the mirror, “Look, Father. Look at how _beautiful_ you are right now.” Castiel has no choice but to look, but instead of looking at himself he looks back at Dean, and there’s that look again. That one that the demon inside Dean that is trying so desperately trying to break. Except looking at it closer now, it doesn’t look so much as fight, although that’s certainly there too, but it’s almost determined. For what exactly Dean’s not sure, but his demon wants to break it none the less.

One hand grips Castiel’s hip and the other wraps around Castiel’s neglected erection, and Dean brings back the brutal speed from before. Clearly overstimulated and having not done anything like this before, Dean’s not surprised Castiel is the first to climax. He’s also not surprised that he follows soon after when the Father tightens around Dean as he does, but to avoid even more discomfort for Castiel later he pulls out at the last second and comes all over the other man’s backside.

Dean slowly eases Castiel down onto the bed as the other has seemingly turned into jelly after orgasming and, to be fair, Dean’s feeling pretty close to that as well. Not enough to avoid cleaning up, however. He could care less about the mirror and headboard that Castiel came all over, but he should clean up the other's back regardless of how sexy it looks right now.

Reaching for the washcloth from before Dean hears Castiel mumbling. He doesn’t catch the first part but then Castiel, completely spent, manages out a weak, “I will save you, Dean,” before he passes out.

Dean can’t help but smile at that, “Oh? You’re going to save me? Well then, my pretty little lamb, who’s going to save you?” 


	8. Psalm 23:4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am overwhelmed by the support and response. It's been awhile since I've updated, so if there's something wrong with the continuity please let me know so i can fix it though I will be going back on all the chapters and proofreading after this gets posted. Reminder that you can always find the unproofread versions of the chapter on my writing tumblr (chaostiel.tumblr.com) if you don't want to wait as long. Since this chapter took so long this is not proofread yet.
> 
> Warnings: Violence and other possible triggering scenarios. Please read at your own discretion. (This chapter is more for plot than the smut, so if you are for the latter and worried about the triggers you may want to skip this chapter). Reminder that this story is full of possible triggering issues. If you are concerned about something in particular feel free to ask about it and I can clarify if it is as issue that will come up in the future.

_Reaching for the washcloth from before, Dean hears Castiel mumbling. He doesn’t catch the first part but then Castiel, completely spent, manages out a weak, “I will save you, Dean,” before he passes out._

_Dean can’t help but smile at that, “Oh? You’re going to save me? Well then, my pretty little lamb, who’s going to save you?”_

  
_______________

 

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but then again, Castiel also doesn’t remember being in a car. When he opens his eyes just enough to confirm his suspicions, that’s exactly where he is. His head sits against the passenger seat window, so he assumes his headache is from it lightly rapping against the glass. If he's honest with himself, it is not just the headache. He aches all over. The Father decides not to dwell on the fact he’s especially sore in one place in particular,, and the low rumble of the car isn’t helping.

It’s dark outside, but he has no idea how long he has been out. His brain immediately panics about the possibility that he still might have a concussion from when he slipped on the ice. He could have been out for days! This one thought causes a domino effect of more worrying ones.

Where is he? Where are they going? Who’s driving? Is it Dean? Should he be more concerned if Dean is driving, or that it could be someone else entirely?

All of those questions get placed aside when he shifts in the seat, “Am... Am I handcuffed?”  
“Well, good morning to you too.” Dean’s voice calls out answering one of Castiel’s previous questions.

“I don’t understand. It’s night, why are-”

A deep laugh rumbles through Dean’s throat, “Figure of speech, angel.”

The Father’s eyebrows lower in frustration and he sets the other with a hard glare, “My name is Castiel.”

Dean glances over to shoot Castiel a smirk before returning his attention to the road, “Whatever you say, _Cas_.”

Castiel continues to send the demon a scowl before he turns back to staring out the window. Shifting in his seat as he does, he realizes something horribly out of place and jumps to sit up straight, spinning back to stare at Dean. This time in disbelief.

The demon’s smirk spreads out to a full out grin, “Somethin’ wrong?”

Castiel sinks into the seat looking uncomfortable, and he glances down at his clothes. They are not his own, but rather ones he borrowed from the church that he was originally brought to for protection. Nothing looks out of the ordinary, but that’s not the problem. Well, not the only problem because now a hand is sliding over and gently clutching at his thigh.

The young Father jerks at the contact and instead of pulling back, the hand reaches higher and pulls at his pants pocket. “Now what’s got your panties in a twist?” Castiel can only assume that Dean was aiming for the waistline of his pants, but with his eyes focused on the road missed their intended mark.

“These are not my clothes.” Castiel can’t bring himself to look up at Dean. He does, however, try to bore a hole into the hand now creeping towards the front of his pants with an even harder glare than before.

“No? Dean feigns interest. “Those are the ones you took off for me last night.”

While that does answer Castiel’s previous question about how long he was out, it doesn’t make him feel any better. In fact, it only makes him feel worse. “These are borrowed as well, but they are not what I’m referring to.”

“Oh? What are you referring to then?” The lightheartedness of the demon’s voice tells Castiel that Dean knows exactly what Castiel is alluding to, but is taking much joy from him discomfort. He chooses not to give Dean the satisfaction with an answer. Apparently, that was the wrong choice to make seeing that Dean took that as permission of sorts to grip the front of Castiel’s pants. “Aw, don’t be like that. I thought I was doing you a favor since yours were dirty.”

The hands retracts when Castiel remains silent and he can feel the tension rising. “Giving me the silent treatment, huh?” All of the joking has left Dean’s voice now, and is bordering on something Castiel is starting to worry about. Sure enough, Dean looks over at him and his eyes are encased by darkness. “Well, if you don’t want to talk I can give your mouth something else to do.”

Castiel stiffens. Either he talks or he... Talk it is.

“Tell me about Sam.” In hindsight he should have realized it was the dumbest thing he could ask and it didn’t take long for him to figure that out.

Dean slams one of his hands hard against the steering wheel and yells, “GOD DAMMIT,” as he pulls the car over to the shoulder sharply in a rather dangerous manner. He slams the the brakes causing Castiel to brace himself with his bound hands against the dashboard. The car is already in park and Dean is out of the car before the Father can process what’s happening.

Castiel rights himself up again, and he sees Dean standing outside the passenger car door with an expression that can only be described as murderous. By instinct, Castiel tries backing away from Dean as he all but tears the door open and reaches for him. He doesn’t get very far due to the seat-belt still being engaged, and Dean has a painful grip on his arm as he undoes the belt. He’s torn out of the car and dragged along the ground and in that moment Castiel fears that this is the end of the line for him.

“Who are you really?” Dean is screaming in his face. “How the fuck do you know about Sammy?”

The grip on his arm is crushing at this point and Castiel winces at the pain just thankful it’s his arm and not his throat. Through gritted teeth, he’s able to manage out enough to answer Dean’s question, “There was a journal in your bag.” The pain subsides a little and Castiel counts that a step in the right direction, though Dean is far from pleased. “The hunters-”

He gets cut off when the pain comes back twice as hard as before, “That’s right. You had a run in with some hunters while I was gone.” Dean’s face is only inches from Castiel’s own. “You said you saw them while they poked around, and they just...” Dean eases back away from Castiel’s face but keeps a firm hand on his arm and waves his other hand with a shrug, “left.”

Castiel can’t help but stare at Dean confused. “Yes.” The hand lets go of his arm, but now he is being raised up by the collar of his shirt, his toes skimming across the ground below him.

  
“You’re lying!”

“I...” Castiel is having a difficult time breathing as well as processing what he could be lying about. “I don’t understand.”

Dean searches Castiel’s face. After what feels like an eternity, he drops Castiel who falls to his knees and raises a hand to his throat as he gasps and coughs for air.

_______________

 

Dean turns around and yells into the darkness frustrated. Either his new play toy is lying to him and is really good at playing dumb, or he’s just especially good at finding ways to bring up old wounds. Old wounds, which also happen to be current ones. Either way, it’s bad for both of them, and he knows he needs to get rid of Castiel. He won’t, of course, because he can never seem to do the right thing.

He turns back around and sees Castiel still holding his neck but looking up at Dean with that same fearful expression he had when he found out he was a demon. It’s still hard to tell if the guy is clueless or playing him, but either way he’s going to pay for digging around in his personal life without permission.

“Sorry, angel. But I’ve gotta teach you a lesson for digging around in someone else’s stuff.” Dean knows he’s making it sound worse than what he’s actually going to do, but doesn’t bother telling Castiel the details of his plan.

He drags Castiel to the back of the car and unlocks the trunk, one hand firmly grasped around the other man's binds. So far his plan is working because the look of confusion on Castiel’s face is almost comical. “Oh, right. You’ve been out for almost a whole day. You’re probably starving. I wouldn’t mind stopping for a bite myself.”

Dean pushes Castiel into the trunk enjoying the startled look on his face as the father sees what he's being pushed against. "Don't move too much, sweetheart. Wouldn't want to set any of those off and blow up your pretty little head." As Castiel opens his mouth to object, Dean slams the trunk shut with a wicked grin. Almost all of the guns aren't loaded, and the few that are have the safety on and hidden in side panels, not that Castiel has to know that. The only real threat is that there might be a knife or two in there without a sheath for the blade, but generally all of those are at the bottom. If Castiel gets himself cut, well he was digging around where he shouldn't have been and that would teach him for being a snoop.

_______________

 

Truthfully, Castiel is hungry. From running around so much and the stress from the past two days alone. He’s only had with a light breakfast and lunch at the sister church, so now he’s working up a rather large appetite. Then again, at the time he wasn’t thinking too much about food due to being too scared for his life or seeing things that would cause him to empty his otherwise hungering stomach.

The whole ride he's too scared to move, afraid of setting off one of the guns like Dean implied might happen. The guns must have belonged to former hunters, or perhaps Dean himself not that either of those thoughts do anything to calm his nerves. Why Dean keeps the guns is another thought that nags at Castiel. Clearly, Dean doesn't need guns when his demonic power is more than enough to deal with any threat.

When he shifts due to his discomfort in the position he's been sitting in, his hands bump against a gun what feels unlike any of the others. Without light it's difficult to tell for certain, but it's at the very least different due to the fact it's a handgun with a spinning cylinder and a worn wooden grip. A revolver of some kind his mind supplements from his quick crash course in guns from the various hunters he's spoken with. Now he wishes he payed more attention as this particular gun seems important to him for some reason.

He decides to spend time inspecting the gun by touch so he might be able to pick it out again later if he needs, thought careful not to run his fingers to close to the trigger. It has a long barrel but instead of the usual round shape, this one is cut with eight flat sides and carvings near where the cylinder is nestled though too faint to be able to make the shapes out. There's also a carving on the wooden grip. This one is far less delicate, as if it was done hastily or by someone other than the gun's creator. It takes Castiel a moment, but when he does he frowns in confusion. It's the same symbol that he's seen numerous times recently in such a short period. Father Murphy managed to tell him about this at least. This pentagram in a circle is supposedly one of the best defenses one can have against demons. So this gun must have belonged to a hunter at one point, but why has Dean kept it?

Just when he thinks he's finished he finds another carving, or rather, an inscription on the barrel. The marks near the cylinder seem more decorative, but Castiel can tell these are words and numbers. The car's movement and his calloused hands prevent him from making it out by feel alone, but Castiel pulls out a small piece of chalk, from his brief teachings at the sister church, from his pocket with some struggle with his still bound hands. Castiel then rubs a light amount of its dust on his fingers and then the engraving. He then taps the dust filled marks against the inside of his now untucked shirt hoping it's good enough to read the inscription later, but in a place out of sight so Dean wouldn't catch his prying. After placing the chalk back in his pocket he blows the dust off his hands, and then winces at the dry powder remaining when he licks his fingers clean and wipes the chalk off the gun to hopefully get rid of the rest of the incriminating evidence. Castiel decides to keep as still as possible to keep from smudging it. It proves to be a difficult task with the bouncing car and occasional weapon bumping against him, but he is fairly confident the marking is as in tact as he possibly can.

It takes awhile before the car slows down, a few times even making stops. The stops become more frequent and Castiel has to wonder if Dean has entered a town. There's one brief stop where the car is turned off and panic sets back in when he hears Dean get out of the car. He expects the demon to retrieve him from the trunk but after a few minutes, Castiel decides Dean has either made a short pit stop, or left him to... Well, he does not want to think about the other possibility.

Some time later he hears Dean return to the car and turn it back on before pulling out from wherever they are. In what feels like the same amount of time Dean spent at the stop, the car slows again as it pulls to a stop on a gravel road. The trunk opens, and even though it is dark outside, Castiel blinks his eyes until his eyes adjust to the change in light.  
Dean is looming over him with a cocky smile shaking fast food bags in his hands. "You survived. Looks like I won't have to eat both meals after all." He moves one of the bags into the other to free up one of his hands to drag Castiel from the trunk by the front of the Father's shirt.

Castiel struggles to follow, but only because he can’t get proper footing especially with his bound hands. He’s glad to be out of the trunk, but he has no idea what is to come and wonders if it was better to stay in.

“Have a nice ride?” Dean’s smiling and the playful edge is back, which has the Father sighing in relief. If he has to choose between this Dean and the angry one, the current one is one he would rather contend with.

“Nice isn’t exactly the word I would choose to describe it.”He’s slowly learning, and Castiel has picked up that Dean actually likes it when Castiel’s quips back instead of choosing to stay quiet.

Sure enough, Dean smirks and gives a small chuckle. “That’s a real shame. Maybe you’ll behave better now though.”

He knows a threat when he hears it, and even in the joking voice Dean gives it, Castiel hears it clear as day. Castiel feels like he’s constantly walking on eggshells with the demon, and every word, every action has to be carefully chosen otherwise Dean will undoubtedly get angry again. One of these times, the demon won’t be able to hold his strength back and will hurt Castiel or worse. Not that things haven’t gone horribly wrong for Castiel already. He supposes he’s luckier than the ones who tried to help him.

Dean points a finger at Castiel and curls it indicating he wants the Father to come to him and, albeit hesitantly, Castiel obeys. A soft click and Castiel feels a slight burn and relief on his wrists as the demon unlocks the handcuffs. Dean then turns around and heads to the front desk of yet another no-name motel on the outskirts of whatever town they passed through.

Rubbing his wrists and looking around, Castiel follows noticing there’s not much of a difference from this motel and the previous one. It’s just as vacant as the other, though the outside looks slightly more palatable than the first motel. When he decides he’s seen all that could be seen, he watches the back of Dean’s head confused as a thought strikes him.

Why was he handcuffed for the car ride, and released the moment he had the chance to flee? Obviously Dean must know by know that Castiel has no intention of leaving until he’s given up all hope of saving the other, so what was the purpose?

As he’s pondering that thought he remembers the strange gun from the car and, more importantly, the inscription on it. Castiel quickly lifts the bottom of his shirt and over while Dean is talking to the clerk to glance at the chalk marking before it fades or smears away and becomes illegible. It's harder to read than he would like, but he can make out enough to hazard a guess.

'P lm 23 4'

The words spill from Castiel's mouth softly in a way that sounds as if he's thinking out loud. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."

Unfortunately, it's just loud enough that Dean can hear or simply that Castiel forgot about Dean's demonic abilities. "Either you picked a bad time to say that, or you still haven't learned your lesson about keeping your nose out of someone else’s stuff Father." The demon hasn't turned around, but his posture has straightened and the way Dean says it has a chill running down Castiel's spine.

_He knows._

_______________

 

The clerk gives Dean a look of confusion, but that’s the last thing on Dean’s mind at the moment. He can’t think of a damn reason for Cas to say that line out of the blue like that. He would like to give the Father the benefit of the doubt, he is one of the church after all, but when he turns around to face the other the look of being caught red handed tells Dean all he needs to know.

He snatches the key from the desk clerk and pushes Castiel out of the office, continuing to ignore the clerk who lets out a meek “You sure you don’t want a different room?”

Dean continues giving Castiel hard shoves every time he catches up with the other in the parking lot. The only satisfaction he’s getting out of this is the look of terror on the other’s face each time he looks back over his shoulder at Dean. At one forceful shove, Castiel loses his balance and falls to the ground. Not missing a beat, the demon grabs him by the collar of his shirt and starts dragging him across the remaining steps of the lot to the motel room.

Castiel keeps looking at Dean even as he pulls at the front of his shirt collar and instinctively pull away from Dean. He looks like he’s waiting for Dean to say something, but the demon is too angry. Besides, he knows it’s far more unnerving to the Father that Dean’s completely silent as he drags Castiel across the gravel without so much a glance in his direction.

When Dean reaches their room, he releases Castiel long enough to unlock the door and push it open. He tosses their food in the direction of the closest table and finally looks at the other. Castiel has a hand up to his throat and he’s trying to scoot away. Even with all of this and everything Castiel has seen, there’s still a hint of determination behind that fear and even through his rage Dean is impressed by the man.

Had Castiel known why Dean handcuffed him, he might has lost some of that resolve. Running into Meg was only the first of many headaches. Brady showed his slimy face not long after Dean made another quick run into town with news from Alistair. Apparently he still hasn’t given up on his beloved protege. There was no doubt that word had spread about Dean’s new toy and, judging by Brady’s smug face, Alistair plans to use this newfound knowledge to his advantage. If Alistair found out that Dean let Castiel run around freely it would cause issues, not to mention several other demons that would love to have leverage on Dean. So whether Castiel likes it or not, he’s going to have to deal with the handcuffs whenever they are moving around. For now Dean lets Castiel believe he still has his freedom, but at this point leaving Dean’s side is a death wish.

All the more reason for Castiel to mind his own damn business. If he learns too much about Dean and how he ended up like this, then he might see how hopeless his cause is and try to leave. Castiel leaving is the last thing Dean wants right now, so now he has to find a new way to keep the Father from his prying.

Castiel’s confused stare pulls Dean back into the present, and he grabs the Father and drags him into the room. He kicks the door closed behind them and pushes Castiel to the bed. The other raises his chin in defiance and any other time Dean would be impressed by Castiel. Right now though, he needs to get his point across. The Father’s snooping is going to get him killed.

“You wanted to know about your new clothes so badly. Well, then. How about I show you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be heavily focused on smut with some plot sprinkled in. If you don't care for that and just want the plot I can post a porn free chapter on my writing blog if anyone wishes.


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